Snorkeling in Mexico

Kayaking and Snorkeling 
in Caba, Mexico
Spring 2011

I remember the first time I went snorkeling. It was in the Caribbean and I was afraid.  I can’t swim so I constantly have the thought of drowning on my radar when I go in the water.  My boat mates, at the time, were encouraging me to break away from my fears and surrender to the opportunity.  One woman assured me that she was a licensed scuba diver instructor and she was willing to hold my hand, figuratively and literally, as I gave snorkeling a try.  So I surrendered and suited up in my flippers and mask and walked out backwards in to the cool, cool surf. 

Conquering the technique of breathing through the mask was difficult, unnatural to me.  I panicked because I didn’t like the sensation. I felt out of control of my own breathing.  So I stopped and stood firmly in the water and just practiced for a few minutes before I went any further.

Once I felt comfortable, I slowly submerged myself in just below the surface.  My eyes were closed and I concentrated on my breathing, slowly, methodically, without panic.  In and out. In and out. Once I had the rhythm down pat, I opened my eyes and immediately popped right back up.

“What’s the matter", Joann wanted to know. “Is something wrong?

I could barely contain myself.  I felt as if I had been blind but now I see. The fish were beautiful and their beauty startled me. So I told Joanne, “I feel as if I was blind but now I see. “  And she understood. And in that short a period of time, I lost my rhythm in breathing, so I started again, in and out and then in and out.  And when I was ready, I submerged myself again.  And I floated through this wonderful world of color and quiet and beauty.  The only noise was my labored breathing.

And so after that experience, I was hooked.  I became a snorkeling junkie.  I go snorkeling every chance I get.  When I got home from this trip, I went out and bought snorkeling equipment.  And when I searched a little more, I found better equipment. So I bought that equipment as well.  And this quest continued so now I think I have enough equipment for three or four people.  And of course, I have never needed to use all of this equipment at any one time.

I did however, go out and get masks for small children and I did teach my young nephews to snorkel in my hot tub.  That was fun and they were filled with a degree of wonderment when they found the toys I had planted at the bottom.  Someday, I am going to take them somewhere where they can snorkel for real.  If they should have half the excitement as I experienced, I will be thrilled.

So now, ten years later, I consider myself a full-fledged snorkeler.  I am a bit of a cautious snorkel and could see worlds more of multiple fish variety if only I could swim.  But I can’t but I am still very happy with what I have seen to date.

So now, I am in Caba, Mexico and I have signed up for a kayaking and snorkeling trip.  And I have come on this journey with my own snorkeling equipment, a safety whistle, and life jacket and a small sun cabana, all of which I left on the boat because of a moment of over-prepared dorkiness which came over me as I was getting ready to disembark from the ship.

We are met at the port by two gregarious young men who speak to us with a comfort and familiarity that puts all of us at ease and the group gels immediately.  There are six of us and two of them (Sebastian and Martin) and we hop in their van and head to the beach, which is empty of people and the only sound was the roar of the waves.

We are using tandem kayaks and I am not good in a tandem.  You have to paddle in sync with the other person and I never, never learned to work in sync with another person.  I am only on my own radar. But I found a partner who quickly passed me the role of the captain.  She thought I had more experience.  So she took the front seat and I hopped in the back.  We were the first in our boat so we led the pack.  And off we went without instruction from our guide and without a sense of the strength of the current.

But then it hit us both at the same time.  We realized we were so small in this surf.  Waves in the distance intimidated us and we held our breath as we looked up and saw waves that only surfers would have wished for.  But these waves were too, too much for us, both of us being stillwater paddlers.

We seemed to have been lucky enough to dodge the breaking of the waves and we were out in the ocean, the Pacific Ocean.  I was paddling in the Pacific Ocean and I looked over and  saw the shoreline  well off to my left shoulder and I pulled on my life jacket ever so slightly tighter as if this extra little pull was going to make me more secure.

Mostly we paddled out of sync with each other. And then we clashed paddlers from time to time and occasionally we found a rhythm with each other.  But just as soon as we reached this point, we fell out of sync again.

We watched for birds and saw some magnificent cormorants. And we saw a large white bird that we could not identify, at first.  But upon closer inspection, we foolishly discovered that it was nothing more than a rock covered white with bird droppings.

We paddled towards a large rock formation and I worried about being sucked in to the current. The waves slapped so loudly against the rock and I just imagined our kayak being sucked in and cracked apart against all of the nooks and crannies.  And of course, we would never be seen again.

As we turned around the corner of the rock, we saw Martin on the beach, waving to us, waiting to grab our kayaks and drag us safely beyond the breaking of the waves.  It was great to see him because I did worry about how I was going to get out of the kayak in the midst of the surf.

We took a quick break and then jumped right in to snorkeling.  I could hardly wait.  The water glistened with hues of greens and blues. The sun was intense.  The atmosphere was joyful.  And I looked around and thought to myself, “Who are you to be so damn luck to be here.”

I got my equipment. Sebastian asked me for my mask for just a second so that he could douse it with a little glass cleaner. This was going to minimize the potential for the mask to fog up.

I gathered my stuff.  I put on my flippers and began to walk backwards in the water.  The first two steps were cool and refreshing.  The third step, I dropped several feet and now the water was well above my waist.  And the current was strong, really strong.  It tossed me around and my flippers folded under me as I attempted to maintain my balance.  I was stumbling and struggling to stand.  And if that wasn’t enough activity, I decided to put my mask on.  It didn’t fit just right and I didn’t have my glasses on, so fixing the problem was a challenge.

The waves were knocking me down and I was losing the battle.  But somehow I jammed the mask over my head and secured it too tightly over my face.  And I had an immediate reaction to the de-fogging fluid in my mask.  My eyes began to burn so much that it hurt to keep my eyes open.  My sinuses opened up and burned as well.  And now, completely distracted, the waves pushed and pulled me ever more forcefully.  I was tripping over my damn flippers.  I was trying to get the damn mask off my head and I couldn’t touch the bottom.  And now, my jacket isn’t fitting right and my balance is completely off.  And I could have used some help.  But the others had already taken off by now.  So I was completely alone.

Just five feet away, there was a rope which corded off the boundary of the reef.  With much effort, I got over there and grabbed hold of the rope. It was slimly with algae which broke away as I grabbed hold.  All of the algae broke up in to hundreds of small particulars and surrounded me.  And even as I hung on, I was being thrown around and couldn’t anchor myself.  I would try to open my eyes but it was still too painful.  I was tripping over my flippers but I couldn’t get them off.  I had to get out of the water because I was becoming exhausted.  And it was hard work as I made my way back to our umbrella on the beach.

Once I settle myself on the beach, I took a bottle of water and attempted to wash out my eyes.  After half an hour, I was able to open my eyes again without straining myself.  So I thought I would try again.  But this time, I would go in without my flippers and I would secure my life jacket more securely so that it wasn’t bumping into my face.

My travel mates had just returned and talked with excitement about everything they saw.  So I was excited.  I picked up my equipment which called attention to Sebastian.

“Yes,” he said, misinterpreting my intention, “You’re right.  It’s time to go.  It’s 12:30 so we have to start back.”  And with that everyone got up, gathered up their things and we went back to the van.  This was a missed opportunity for me.