I have been called a “desert rat” all my life since I was born and raised in Las Vegas, Nevada. I remarried later in my life and my husband wanted to honeymoon in Hawaii. I was so excited about being on such a beautiful island. I had a secret that I did not want to admit to my new love. I am absolutely terrified of the ocean. I know one day I will be eaten by a shark. Now, I grew up in the desert. I vacationed in San Diego, but never went farther than my knees and the seaweed would make me jump as if I had just been bitten by the biggest Great White Shark ever. Everyone around me would laugh and I never thought it was funny.

Now with that set up, here is the funny part of my honeymoon. My husband grew up in California surfing, bonfires, and loving the ocean. I, on the other hand, couldn’t swim in a pool in the dark for fear a shark would swim up the drain pipe and eat me. Not sure where I got this phobia for salt water, but I am thinking the movie “Jaws” had a lasting impression. Okay, so now I have just signed up to go snorkeling not only on the ocean, but miles from shore.

As I walked on the boat I went immediately to the back. I had no intention of watching how far out we were going to travel. I sat on the back bench with my hands clasped tightly to the cushion I was sitting on and looking as if I was going to walk the plank forever and end up on the plate of some ocean creature.

As we came to the area of snorkeling, my breathing became sporadic and I wished for a heart attack. Then I would not be out snorkeling looking at the vast ocean all around me. My poor husband, the captain, and many helpers tried to coax me into the water. Each time I touched the water with my toes I would hyperventilate. I am 37 years old clinging to the edge of the boat like I child who had never learned how to swim.  I look out and kids and I mean young kids are swimming, snorkeling, laughing, and here I am trying not to throw up as I sit on the edge of the boat with my legs in the water.
Finally, the captain says he will put a rope on the back of the boat and I can hold onto that and feel closer to the boat. As an adult, I have to agree. It is time to get over my shark phobia and realize just because I am white-knuckled clinging for dear life on a rope behind a boat that some sneaky shark will not sweep under the boat and tear me to shreds.

Okay, so now with a lot of encouragement and a push from the captain, I am now holding onto a rope in the ocean and unwilling to look under the water. Finally, I get my courage up, hold my breath, and then look under water. Guess what, I see fish. A lot of fish and no sharks, but still all my guts seem like they are about to filter out of my skin.

It took my husband and another guy to get me to leave the boat holding onto a boogie board as they swam a little ways from the boat, but they had to bring me back when I stopped breathing because I looked around and kept thinking about what I couldn’t see under the water, so we made it back to the boat and I was not eaten by a shark. I didn’t even see a shark. I probably would have died from shock if I had seen one.

On the way back, I got cheers from the kids on the boat. How humiliating is that? I also got a drink or two in celebration of overcoming my fear of being in the ocean. I am no way near to being ready to surf or any other activities that will make me look like shark food, but I can say I did snorkel. My whole body was in the ocean, so I am woman hear me roar. Of course, I will scream like a little girl if I ever come into contact with the smallest of sharks, so keep me in your thoughts as my son now wants to get farther and farther out in the ocean on our vacations. If you are in San Diego and hear a woman screaming while running toward the shore because she was touched by seaweed then think of me because it will probably be me.