Two Tickets to Paradise – Thursday: Water

So far we’ve tackled air, earth and fire. So today – we took on the water. After applying copious amounts of sunscreen, we set off toward the harbor for a morning snorkel cruise. The boat traveled out to the Kealakekua Bay – home of the Captain Cook monument. (Did you know that stands on British soil?)

We arrived at our destination, listened to the woeful demise of Captain Cook, saw some safety demonstrations and the drink was open! I somewhat abashedly stripped down to my red bikini. (Remember this – this detail will come back to haunt me.)

Aloha!

Yes, I wore a bikini today. I proudly wore the bruises on my translucently white thighs – those resulting from walking into crib corners and walls in order to make sure my kids didn’t search out and destroy anything. I smiled when my bottoms dipped just slightly to reveal the edge of my scar – a forever reminder of what it took to get my sons. It’s amazing the self-esteem that may result from a tropical breeze (and a good week of solid sleep).

Comment of the day:
Me: I think I wore my swimsuit pretty well…for the most part.
Jon: Yeah, there were only two girls hotter than you.
Me: Except for Heidi (boat crew member). I mean, even I was looking at her.
Jon: Geez, if I’d known you were looking at Heidi, I would have looked more!

Heeeeeere fishy fishy...

We paddled around the bay for an hour, taking in all the fish below the surface and the awe-inspiring surroundings above. The sheer face of a solid black cliff stared us down while the cobalt blue water paled to a brilliant turquoise before crashing onto shore in furious white crests. Various shades of vibrant green trees and shocking pink flowers dotted the remaining landscape. Under water black, yellow, blue and rainbow fish skittered about the yellow, silver and red coral. I watched it all through the lens of my neon mask – neurotically taking blurry underwater photos.

Trust me. This is a bad idea.

After lunch, Jon suggested that a ride down one of the two waterslides on the boat would be a fantabulous idea. I was initially skeptical since I tend to be a giant wimp. And I really do prefer the feeling of my stomach precisely where it typically lives in my body thankyouverymuch.

But I was persuaded. Jon went first. He popped up grinning – camera poised to capture my flight. I took a deep breath. I pushed forward.

WHOOSH.

Splash.

I felt a million little Pacific Ocean bubbles invade my sensitive little nose. The cool water wrapped around me as I paddled back up toward the water’s edge. Maybe that wasn’t so bad after all. And then I became fully aware of my presence in the water.

HOLY SHIT WHERE IS MY TOP? (Interesting note: a “high impact splash zone” equates to an equally high probability of a very awkward wardrobe malfunction.)

The pressure of entry resulted in a forceful upward thrust of my bikini top. Yes. I flashed all of the lagoon fish. I’m pretty sure they laughed, thinking, “You keep taking those blurry pictures. We all got a nice clear eyeful…”

I didn’t go down the slide again. I climbed back aboard and ate a cookie while waiting for my face to resume a color not matching my now re-secured top.