Snorkeling Adventure

Through a new friend  (James), my labmate, Samantha, and I heard about an awesome opportunity called the Three R's: Rips, Rocks, and Reefs, a program hosted by two former San Diego lifeguards every two weeks during the summer where they teach people about how to snorkel and dive in different locations across San Diego.  Last weekend the location was Shell Beach in La Jolla, California.  

The rocks in the background of this photo are
where this particular adventure took place.

Sam and I showed up at the appropriate location by 7:45am, an impressive feat when you consider that I am not a morning person (ESPECIALLY on Saturdays) and Sam is notoriously a late person.  We also showed up fully dressed in our wet suits with our snorkeling gear in hands, ready to go.  We quickly realized, once we looked around and saw everyone in their street clothes, that most people don't come fully dressed.  That didn't stop us though:  We were ready!  


At first there was serious doubt about whether or not the program would take place because some large swells were coming in and they were worried about our safety.  Sam and I were of the  "BRING IT ON!" opinion.  (Shortly later, this was not the case.)  We'd woken up, put on our wetsuits, by golly, we were going in that water!

After one of the former lifeguards and leaders of the Three R's came in from testing the water, we were told that the adventure would take place!  Everyone else who had arrived (around 30 people or so) got "suited up", and we gathered around the lifeguards for the most terrifying safety talk of our lives.  The first lifeguard, a slim muscular fifty-or-so year old man started by making sure that we were are capable of giving the "all okay" symbol in the water (grabbing both of your hands above your head in the water) and the "need help" symbol (waving one fist in the air and slapping the water with it).  He then proceeded to discuss, in detail, exactly what could go wrong and the amount of pain, bleeding, and broken body parts that could result from what we were about to attempt.  I remember phrases like "gushing blood" and "face planting on the rocks" and "having your feet and hands torn to shreds".  At this point, Sam and I began glancing at each other with really wide eyes, seriously questioning this particular outing.  But, we persevered.  

We then gathered around the fence looking down at the beach where we would be swimming with the second lifeguard, an older man with grey hair, who looked like a cute grandfatherly figure.  Here, I assumed, we would get the reassurance of "You'll be fine; just be careful".  Surely they had a "Good Cop, Bad Cop" thing going on where one person scared us and the other provided us with the necessary confidence.  


No.  They did not.  He pointed out all the rocks that we could hit and slammed his fist down on the fence railing to demonstrate what our faces would do on the rocks if we were caught in the breaking waves.  Sam and I began staring at each other with eyes wider than before and huddling closer to one another.  With our confidence levels plummeting with each passing moment, we hiked down the stairs to the beach.  I informed Sam that I had three goals: 1) Not to die, 2) Not to lose or break any body parts, and 3) To have fun.  The initial crowd had dwindled to a mere 15 or so people (half of what we had started with).  In addition to the two lifeguards, three rescue divers went out with us into the water with "cans".


We were informed that: "If you touch these during the swim, I will assume you need rescued.  I will personally swim you to the shore, and make sure you are okay.  These are not for play."  

  

The "cans"

Properly scared and timid, we all entered the 60 degree water walking backwards so that we didn't trip over our flippers.  Once in the water, we swam into the rip current.  Now, I have always been taught to avoid rip currents, as they are dangerous and cause people to drown.  Apparently, as I learned through the Three R's, they are also useful and can be used to be taken out to sea if you know how to do it properly.  So, into the rip current we swam, and it was amazing just how fast we were moving without much swimming.  Unfortunately, that was the only period of rest.  As soon as we got around seal rock (a rock with, you'll be shocked by this, seals), we turned parallel to the shore, swimming as quickly as possible to avoid being pounded by the incoming waves.  Then, on the far side of the rock, without much of a break, we then swam quickly perpendicular to the shore, again swimming exhaustingly quickly to avoid the breaking waves.  Once on the far side of the rock, we then had to CONTINUE swimming fast (much to my and my lungs and my heart's disappointment).  At this point, the remaining lifeguard left us to go rescue someone and, somehow, we had also lost the rescue divers.  By lost, I mean that they had to go rescue other people behind us.  The lifeguard just pointed us to the shore and said, "Keep going!"  The water got surprisingly shallow so "going" meant swimming/ crawling/ bumping along the rocks.  Finally, Sam, James (the friend who had introduced us to this adventure), and I, plus two other people (which adds up to a total of five), made it to our destination: the shore.  


Everyone else had to abort the swim mission and get out at an easier spot or be rescued by the lifeguards and rescue divers.  So, out of thirty people, only five of us made it through the entire exercise.


That's right.  We're bad butts. 

Samantha and I (on a different occasion),
being awesome