Ahem. He was snorkeling, not scuba-diving. You're the one that would entertain snorkeling. I'm the one that says scuba-diving is a better option. So it's your sport thats dangerous! I win! I win!
Kij has this thing about swimming (at all) in an ocean sort of place where car-sized predators swarm up from the deeps and chow down on unexpecting swimmers. She particularly was unwilling to EVER go into the Puget Sound, that ink-black body of water filled with Orcas and sharks and Krakens, the bottom carpeted with the cars of mob hits. I suspect CR's feeling is like that.
Ummm, me too. Of course, seeing JAWS at the tender age of 5, in the theatre, I was pretty much doomed to a life of sudden urges to look down while in the deep end of the pool. Going into the open sea would require some serious therapy.
Yah...the overwhelming thought forcing its way into your brain "IT'S GOING TO EAT YOU!" really dampens enjoyment.
There just aren't enough cuddly-type animals in the sea to make up for the overwhelming number of "I'll-eat-you-if-I-can-get-my-mouth-around-you" animals.
On the other hand, once you've donned your mask, you can look down and see your enemy. The only remaining question is, "Can I swim to safety before it attaches itself to my thigh?"
How about a scary moment story? Sure:
I was swimming in a Canadian glacier lake (they're really deep, icy cold, and surrounded by granite shores) with some other Luther-League kids. About 500 miles from home, three hours' boat ride to the nearest town, another couple of hours' drive to a hospital. The canoe tipped over as they so often seem to do with teenagers. It was near shore, but it was also over a serious drop-off to some 30 or more feet of depth. DARK water, because it's so deep. The girls squealed and swam to shore, while Jim (yes, that Jim) and I laughed at them and tread water.
Then something rose from the deep. There I was, treading water several body-lengths from the murky lake-floor, when suddenly my foot landed on what felt like a rock and I was able to stand on it and rest for a moment. Only a moment, because even as a teenager I was able to add 2+2. How could a rock exist at this place, where the lake-bottoms are scoured smooth by glaciers the size of mountains? And then the rock sunk beneath my weight, and something scaly and sharp rasped agaist my calf.
I think I ran across the surface of the water to the shoreline in less than a second. Jim climbed atop the overturned canoe. A kraken's head rose briefly from the waters, its ancient eyes surveying its surroundings, calculating whether we should be prey or not. Then it sunk back beneath the inky waters.
(Well, perhaps not a kraken, but have you ever seen one of those mammoth snapping turtles? Beaked head the size of a Rottweiler's, claws the size of a grizzly's, shell the size of a VW Beetle.)
I think it was about then that I stopped enjoying a swim in the deep quite as much. If you can't see beneath you, it's just not as fun.
When I was about 11, I was on Prince Edward Island, and dived face-first into surf -- where I got a faceful of jellyfish stings. And it was 20 years before I was willing to take a bubble bath because I couldn't see the bottom of the bathtub at all times.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clevermanka) wrote2004-02-11 12:04 pm
no subject
Re:
>distraction mode on<
But look! Shiny! Sex toys! Right over here, boy! Get 'em!!!
Re:
Re: ocean
Chris
Re: ocean
no subject
no subject
Re:
Re:
Re:
There just aren't enough cuddly-type animals in the sea to make up for the overwhelming number of "I'll-eat-you-if-I-can-get-my-mouth-around-you" animals.
Re: taking the other side now
How about a scary moment story? Sure:
I was swimming in a Canadian glacier lake (they're really deep, icy cold, and surrounded by granite shores) with some other Luther-League kids. About 500 miles from home, three hours' boat ride to the nearest town, another couple of hours' drive to a hospital. The canoe tipped over as they so often seem to do with teenagers. It was near shore, but it was also over a serious drop-off to some 30 or more feet of depth. DARK water, because it's so deep. The girls squealed and swam to shore, while Jim (yes, that Jim) and I laughed at them and tread water.
Then something rose from the deep. There I was, treading water several body-lengths from the murky lake-floor, when suddenly my foot landed on what felt like a rock and I was able to stand on it and rest for a moment. Only a moment, because even as a teenager I was able to add 2+2. How could a rock exist at this place, where the lake-bottoms are scoured smooth by glaciers the size of mountains? And then the rock sunk beneath my weight, and something scaly and sharp rasped agaist my calf.
I think I ran across the surface of the water to the shoreline in less than a second. Jim climbed atop the overturned canoe. A kraken's head rose briefly from the waters, its ancient eyes surveying its surroundings, calculating whether we should be prey or not. Then it sunk back beneath the inky waters.
(Well, perhaps not a kraken, but have you ever seen one of those mammoth snapping turtles? Beaked head the size of a Rottweiler's, claws the size of a grizzly's, shell the size of a VW Beetle.)
I think it was about then that I stopped enjoying a swim in the deep quite as much. If you can't see beneath you, it's just not as fun.
Chris
no subject
When I was about 11, I was on Prince Edward Island, and dived face-first into surf -- where I got a faceful of jellyfish stings. And it was 20 years before I was willing to take a bubble bath because I couldn't see the bottom of the bathtub at all times.
Re:
;)
no subject