We’re Gonna Need A Bigger Boat
It’s that time of year again folks! Yep, my birthday is upon us and I’ve already alerted the postman to expect an exponential increase in packages and letters. You still have four more shopping days until the big day and if you are stumped for ideas, let me help you: BLING.
Moving on to more stuff about me…every year around this time I pick a something new to learn or do in the coming year. One year I learned how to scuba dive. Of all the things I’ve done, this is one of those what-was-I-thinking? moments. I can’t swim, I am terrified of fish, and I am shockingly unskilled at breathing underwater.
Of those three things, it’s the fish that scare me the most. I’m not talking about great whites or barracuda. Anyone in their right mind would be scared of those. I’m talking catfish. Trout. And other things I don’t know the names of because really, if I learned their names, that means that I’d just have to get close enough to identify them. Not. Gonna. Happen.
Fast forward to an early Spring day as I am testing my oxygen tank for my basic scuba diving certification. It was a four-day accelerated course. Three days of classroom time and one day of diving. While others were concerned about dive tables, decompression sickness, imploding lungs, and exploding ear drums, I kept asking the instructor, “Are there sharks? We won’t see any sharks will we? What about sharks?” He assured me that there were no sharks and then proceeded to bore me with things like emergency ascents and buddy breathing. An emergency ascent is how to get the hell outta dodge with the least amount of damage to your ears and lungs. Buddy breathing teaches you how to wrestle the respirator from your diving buddy, steal his air, and dispose of the body before heading back to the boat. I came up with my own little emergency contingency plan. Shark Escape©. Shark Escape© is when you see a shark and you stab your diving buddy with your dive knife. While he’s fish fodder you can make your getaway. The fact that my diving buddy was my soon to be Ex made that contingency plan all the more appealing.
As we prepped for our dive on the last morning, I kept peering into the dark murky water. A storm the previous night had stirred up the silt on the bottom making the usually crystal clear waters muddy and dark. I don’t know if that was a blessing or a curse. If I was going to be dragged to my watery grave in a Great White death spiral, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see it coming or if I just wanted to be blindsided. Knowing that I was anxious about the dive, the dive master told me to stick close to him. I thought that was a good idea except that he had so many layers of dive gear on that I wasn’t sure if my little five inch dive knife would be long enough to shank him good and deep if it became necessary to use Shark Escape©.
They eventually got me in the water We got in the water. I couldn’t see beyond the end of my arm but dark shapes would pass by. Some would gently tap my leg or flipper before darting away and others would hover near me, just out of sight. After the first ten minutes, I started to relax. While I was not as gung ho to see fish as the rest of my diving crew, I was in awe of the other underwater life and was soothed by the sound of my breathing (even if it was a little fast and anxious). Everything else was blocked out. No talking, no cell phones, blackberries, emails. Just the rhythm of my breath and the soothing sounds of water currents, shifting sand, and…HOLY FUCK!! The dive master grabbed my arm in a kung fu death grip. “This is it!” I thought. I let my guard down and now I’m going to be on the losing end of Shark Escape©. He indicated that I was to look at him. Only at him. Which meant that as he fiddled for the underwater writing slate, I was craning my neck in every direction to see what the hell was going on. What was that up ahead? I could just make out some rather large shapes when my point of view suddenly sharpened. Shiny. Silver. BIG!!!
The dive instructor, with catfish trout SHARK-like reflexes, tightened his grip on my arm. I was trying to pull away but he was shaking his head. WTF? I looked toward the instrument of my imminent demise and easily overcame my earlier aversion to peeing in my wetsuit. There were three of them. The smallest one was about twenty-five feet away, close to 200 pounds and 7 feet long. It looked like I was on the brunch menu. The dive instructor was pointing to his diving slate, reached out his hand and forcibly turned my head to make me look at what he had written: Not Shark!! Tarpon.
Innernetz, let me restate the relevant facts: 200 pounds and 7 feet long. Who the hell cares if it’s a shark (three sharks!) or not. It could have been three goldfish! I still wanted out of there. To say that the next few moments were a blur is not only a cliché but oh so true. Back on the boat, I waited for the other divers. Did I mention that although the water temperature was 72 degrees, a freakish cold front had moved through and I was sitting topside in an open air boat, soaking wet, on a brisk 40 degree Saturday afternoon? Good times.
My not-shark attack had come at the end of the required dive after I had completed all the mandatory tasks, so I actually passed my basic diving certification exam. I was holding my newly minted certification card in my hand as the dive master was praising all of us for our accomplishment. In fact, we’d completed our certification ahead of schedule and he offered to take us out for an extra day in order to do some advance training in a local river. Sign me up! A river? Easy peasy! As I scrawled my signature to the sign-up list, the dive master gathered us around the video screen in our classroom. “Before we go on our drift dive tomorrow, I’d like you to take a look at this video telling you what to do if confronted by an alligator.”
Oh Hell To The No.
So, this year I’m thinking of something a little less taxing. Like skydiving. I ain’t fraida no birds!
Posted on Wednesday, October 22, 2008 at 07:03 AM.
Tags: La Vida Loca
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Comments & Trackbacks
Well happy almost birthday! If you could please send me your address, I will send you the appropriate bling posthaste.
I couldn’t agree more. If it’s not chlorinated, I’m not going in it. I actually did the classroom part, but when they showed the video of the old quarry we were to dive in, and there were catfish as big as grown men in there, I respectfully declined.
and Happy Birthday! How about something calm like piloting a hot air balloon this year?
“You still have four more shopping days until the big day and if you are stumped for ideas, let me help you: BLING.”
This cracked me up. I have a friend whose mom exemplifies this bit of material wisdom. God bless any woman who makes it clear to us fellas what she wants for her birthday. And no, “I don’t even really want anything this year” does NOT count.
No afraid of birds? Talk to Fabio about that. They will fuck your shit up, for reals. No more romance novel covers for you.
I am with you on the Shark Escape(c). I always make sure there is someone farther out in the ocean than me, so when they disappear thrashing into a foamy red sea, I’ll have plenty of time to boogie-board in and alert the lifeguards.
Also, Happy Almost Birthday!
um, I mean “NOT afraid of birds.”
My bad.
nancypearlwannabe — Woohoo! Presents for me!!
Shania — OMG. I had to do the night dive in a quarry with big ol’ catfish. Did I mention it was at night? With fish?
Charlie Pratt — Hi Charlie! “I don’t even really want anything this year,” has never, ever come out of my mouth. Who would say such a thing?
saratogajean — I forgot about the Fabio incident. But really, after getting his nose bashed in by a bird, I’m pretty sure he said something macho like, “No afwade of buds.”
You will never, never, never ever catch me diving.
NEVER.
The idea of SCUBA diving freaks me out. I could probably do it, but I don’t really like the idea. Also, large fish make me uncomfortable. I’m not scared perse, but I was once confronted with a group of tuna all of which were larger than me while I was snorkling. It was eerie. They seemed sort of sinister.
Happy Early Birthday!
OMG, this makes me want to pee in my pants, much less a wet suit! Becuase you are so freaking hilarious. And I think I would rather get eaten by a shark than die when my chute doesn’t open.
Crissy — Never? Where’s your spirit of adventure?
Rachel — Tuna are sinister. All smiley happy PR they do with Charlie Tuna isn’t fooling anyone.
Kori — I’m definitely going to do the tandem skydive. That way, if my chute doesn’t open, I’ll have someone to land on.
Then sky-diving sounds like a plan! I wouldn’t be too happy around really big fish either.
I would much rather go skydiving than scuba diving. What’s so great about seeing fish anyways? If it’s so fantastic just go to an aquarium.
I went snorkeling on a cruise once and I freaked out the minute I opened my eyes and figured out I was surrounded by fish? Screaming leads to injestion of copious amounts of salt water. Never again.
Diving is another one of those activities that always sounded like fun to try. Of course, it also always sounded like one of those activities I could end up sinking way, way too much money into…
I was never scared of sharks until I was charged by one. NO. GOOD.
But, dude, I would totally sky dive with you. What about the weekend of November 8?
Marjolein — As far as I know, I’m bigger than any birds I might encounter.
Megkathleen — Eww! Aquariums are creepy. I won’t even go into the fish section of a pet store.
k8 — Snorkling is scary! Swallowing salt water is scary! Better stay away from the whole sea/fish/out of my element thing altogether.
GeekHiker — It is a very expensive sport. You have to do it a lot to make buying all the equipment worth it. Speaking of, would you like to buy a dive computer?
justrun — You were charged by a shark?! The heart attack alone would have killed me. But you have to finish that story...what happened?!
The idea of scuba diving has ALWAYS heebed me out. I’ll take a trip the the aquarium, thank you very much.
If you do go skydiving, be sure you wear the helmet. Then you’ll be safe.
So you can be just like GHWB? 
Happy early B’day!
I SOOO wanted to learn how to scuba and The Hubster and I were going to go our cruise next year...until he introduce me to a little show on Animal Planet called “Untamed and Uncut”. It sounds like animal porn but it turns out to be a show about animals going nuts and mistaking people for chewing gum or moving targets. The one about the surfer getting attacked by TWO sharks did me in. I’ll let you know if I hear of any crazy Bird Gone Wild stories.
I only hate birds that poop on you. And I highly doubt that’s possible when you’re that high. Yikes!! good luck with all that, and happy early bday. PS We need to hear on the skydiving turns out… fo sho!
I say, wine guzzling, I mean, wine tasting class. with a buddy!
Nuckingfuts. I’m all about scuba unless it puts me in the vicinity of sharks. No thank you. Or alligators for that matter. I say go for the skydiving. Strap yourself to a dude and don’t be responsible for yourself… i’ve also heard the instructors can be good looking and do a little pelvic thrust towards the end that you might be able to look forward too! hahaha.
did katie really just say “fo sho?” Just checking.
Mrs Chili — In an aquarium the fish are on one side of the glass and I am on the other. Just the way it should be.
flurrious — I’ll even have them put an extra one in my parachute pack.
Jen of a2eatwrite — By “just like GHWB” I hope you mean that only in the context of our choice of life and death extracurricular activities and not age.
coconutdiaries — With my luck, I’m sure my skydiving escapade will be the topic of a Youtube Birds Gone Wild video.
Katie — I will definitely post on my skydiving adventure. It probably won’t be until this Spring though. It will take me that long to work up the nerve.
sunny — That’s a good idea. I’ll have to find someone to go with. Do you know of anyone?
Ms Catalysta — They told us to keep our hands in clasped together at waist level. You know, so the alligators and snapping turtles wouldn’t mistake our wiggling fingers for minnows. Yes, Katie said “fo sho”! She kewl like dat.
Thanks for the comment, Dingo… I still can’t comment on my own blog! GRRRRRR.... you can, though. LOL. I hate blogger.
now you’ve got me reconsidering skydiving, which i finally decided i was too old and scared to do. hhhmmm. or - how about the trapeze school instead? i did it once and it was really fun (and scary too). we can go together because i love to invite myself to anything that you might be doing.
In one sense, I totally admire you for doing something crazy like scuba diving. In another sense, I want to yell WHAT were you thinking?! Large bodies of water = scary. Large fish = scary. Relying on a tank to breathe = scary. You are very brave. I hope there aren’t any lost pterodactyls out there to pluck you out of the sky as you’re diving in it.
Happy Birthday and God be with you crazy diving lady.
Jen of a2eatwrite — I’m glad your comment section is working again.
blakspring — I wanted to take a trapeze class but the year I thought about signing up for it, SJP beat me to it. There weren’t any spots available in the classes who weren’t sporting terrible fashion while sloshing their cosmos.
Mel Heth — The fact that I would start to hyperventilate as soon as the land became a dot in the distance should have warned me that SCUBA was not a good idea.
With over fifty dives logged, I still can’t pee in my wetsuit. I’ve tried. I push really hard.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!
Charlie Pratt — Now that I know that there are some pee-ple that do pee in their wetsuits, I never want to rent one again.
Shelly — Thanks!!!
for healthy outdoor activities you cant beat the old chestnut of chequers with the windows open…
water is such a nuisance, you have to keep getting your hair done..
as for the birthday...hold out for gold
rosie — I like how you think!
Happy Bday! And that’s awesome that you try to learn something new every year. Me? I just try to drown it out w/ lots of wine. And whine.
Happy (snotful) Birthday!!!Kudos for you tackling a fear, but JEEZ! Land, lady, where large fish cannot attack you and where breathing isn’t something hoped for outta a tank strapped to your back. I am all for watching that shit on TV, but keep me the heck ABOVE the surface of water, clear or otherwise. Hmm, thanks for allowing me to address that unknown fear…
<i>April — It’s been fun but I really like your whine and wine suggestion. I could get into that.
O’Mama — If you ever want to address that fear by tackling it...call someone else! I’m not scuba diving ever again!</b>