The Snorkeling Incident

Sara has asked that I post this story because she wants me to illustrate what an absolute klutz I am when it comes to any type of physical activity.

12 June is Philippine Independence Day, and since none of the Filipinos are working that day neither do I. With one week left before the girls arrived, and a free day, I decided to join two friends for a road trip. We decided to head to Anilao, a beach near Batangas City. It was only a two hour drive, and all of our colleagues had said it was a good place for snorkeling.
We ended up at a nice little resort call Eagle Point. It had a decent little restaurant and a great view of the sea. The extremely rocky, rough, angry sea.

The photo above is of the little jetty that went out to the snorkeling spot. At the end of the jetty were small stone steps that you could walk (fall/slide) down to begin your afternoon of relaxing fish watching. To the left of the jetty is an area that's been cleared of rocks so that you can easily get yourself back up to the beach. My friend and I made our way down to the jetty, snorkels and masks on; he went in first. As I approached the steps, King Triton sent forth a strong wave that splashed the steps, perhaps warning me that what I was about to do might result in me becoming a deckhand on the Flying Dutchman. Regardless, I walked down the stairs and jumped into the water.


HA! nothing to fear here. I began swimming around (sans fins) looking for fish. Boy, was I disappointed. The coral was mostly dead and there were only a few fish around, all of which would have made Jacques Cousteau yawn (which is probably a bad idea under water). Although there weren't many fish, there sure was a strong current pulling me past that pink flag in the photo above. And then my mask started fogging up a bit. I came to the surface to wash off the fog and looked down past the flag, quickly realizing that the only thing past said flag was a rock wall as far as I could see. Huh. Well, that's disheartening I thought to myself, and began swimming back so that I was on the jetty side of the flag. There I am, swimming myself to relative safety when my wedding band begins sliding off my finger. What? How'd I forget to take that off? Oh well, make a fist, hold it on, and swim back so you can put it in your bag. Only now the current's even stronger and swimming with a closed fist isn't getting me any closer to the aforementioned rock-cleared beach path.


No problem. I'm close to those rock steps; I'll just swim my way to them and go back up the way I came in. I approach the steps, extending my feet to try and get a good footing. As soon as I make touchdown a wave comes from behind and surges me into the steps, knocking me down on my chest, and then dragging me down the stairs as it recedes. But I'm still holding on to the steps. I regain my footing, get hit by another wave, this one pushes me over the side of the stairs (the rock wall side), but I hold on and pull myself back over and walk up the jetty. "Whew, that was crazy", I think to myself. Then I look down and realize that blood is running down my hands, legs, and feet. It turns out stone steps hurt when one is flung upon them like a ragdoll by a raging sea. I had sliced myself up right good (a friend who saw the cuts said I looked like a cadaver). The below picture doesn't quite do it justice.


Eagle Point has a really nice nurse on staff who bandaged me up and treated my wounds with that red liquid that burns like the fires of hell in July. I tried to tell her that I wasn't a stupid American who went snorkelling without watershoes and a limited understanding of tidal currents, but that I had been attacked by a shark that took small bites. She didn't buy it.


The rest of the day was spent with cold San Miguel beer watching the sun set.



The moral of this story: Old Thomas Stearns Eliot might have been right when he said fear death by water.

Postscript: While I lost some skin and blood, I did save my wedding band. When I told my wife, all she could say was "you didn't bleed on our sheets, did you?".