Well, it's winter in Kauai now. The temperature range is only slightly lower: low 80's to the low 70's. The water temperature is cooler, but not so cold as to keep me out of the water. The surf on the north shore is much, much higher which is why a lot of surfers come to Hawaii in the winter time. However, higher surf usually means proportionately stronger rip currents.
I have decided to go back to Anini to try and find my seahorse. The uniqueness of snorkeling has worn off on John, so I decide to go by myself. The water is hardly 18" deep where I saw the seahorse, so surely I'll be perfectly safe. That was my first mistake.
There are a few other folks on the beach at the far end of Anini. I park right on the beach, grab my gear, and walk to the water's edge. The water is murky because of all of the wave action on the sandy bottom. I study the water, and it seems to clear up a bit farther out. I slip in the water and begin swimming out, and I figure when it is clear I'll begin swimming parrallel to the shore.
Soon I raise my head and look back toward shore. Wow! I must be a lot stronger swimmer than when I first got to Kauai. I'm pretty far out. I immediately begin to swim directly back to shore. After a couple of minutes of strong strokes I raise my head again and - I'm not a bit closer to shore. Hmmm. The current from the river flowing down from the mountain must be carrying me.
I know to swim across a current rather than against it if I want to go back, so I change course and swim as hard as I can. Still no good. Folks, I'm not a panic personality - it takes entirely too much effort to panic. I prefer to think my way through troubles, usually with the help of a cup of tea and chocolate bar. (I guess I can check those off my list of "helps.")
I assess myself. Nope, not panicy. Not winded. Still lots of strength. I could kick harder. Uh. Let's see. Sharks tend to attack people in murky water. Sharks are attracted to splashing. I'm thinkin' drowning may be an option here.
I swim a bit, I yell a bit. I swim a bit, I yell a bit. Remember I said I wasn't winded? That's because I have a set of lungs that won't quit.
Finally I see some action on the beach. One man is wading out toward me. About 50' from shore he is still only thigh deep, but he's still 25' from me. He has grabbed the life saving belt with really long straps from the beach life-pole. Now he's standing on the edge of the lava shelf just looking at me. Hello-o-o-o. I need help here.
I see another guy swimming toward me from another direction and folks gathering on the beach. The first man is swimming toward me now. It only takes a minute to get to me with the life belt. I grab hold and we both begin swimming as hard as we can, all the while I'm saying thank you and I'm sorry and thank you and I'm sorry... The second man gets to me, and we're all three swimming hard.
I hear a siren. Someone has called for professional rescue. Oh, my. I just hate making a scene.
We get to the lava shelf and the men who came to my rescue help me stand up. One is overjoyed at my rescue and the other seems a bit peeved. By the time we get to shore the paramedics are there ready to resuscitate this ol' white-haired lady who got herself into deep water. Fact is, I'm fine. Nope, don't need any oxygen. If you want to take my blood-pressure you can, but it's fine. (Yup, it is - even after the swim!) Nope, don't need to sit down. I AM sorry for causing such a ruckus. I tell them that I yelled for help before I was completely exhausted and chose not to panic. (Yes, I believe panic is a choice, not a right, and certainly not a solution.) The paramedics assure me I did (almost) everything right.
My second rescuer and his wife smother me with joy and happiness. They dominate me, and when I look around the first guy has packed up and left. My second rescuer turns out to be a Dr. House. (No, not the television actor Dr. House.) His wife tells me she was across the road in the back of their vacation house and heard someone yelling for help. (I TOLD you I had a good set of lungs!) They are thrilled at my rescue and we have continued to send text messages to each other occassionally. Maybe someday we will meet again - under happier circumstances I do hope.
Well, I guess I'm stickin' to the shore for awhile. Kind of Captain's orders. (Men don't dare say, "My little sugar plum, I love you too much to want you to go snorkeling again..." Oh, no. It's simply, "It ain't happenin' !" My hero (sigh!)
Somehow, as I reflect on this event, I think mostly about the two rescuers: one was peeved and one was overjoyed at my returning alive. The Bible story of the prodigal son comes to mind. The father is overjoyed at the prodigal son coming home. He was lost, but now is found. The brother is peeved. He stayed at home and tended to business, but no one threw him a party, no one killed the fatted calf for him.
All I can say is, I AM sorry to have caused all the trouble, but I am SO glad to be alive and well. Please rejoyce with me. I'm much wiser now, and I won't ever do it again. Please share my joy.
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