In the mail this week we received a beautiful brochure from the Palm Island Resort inviting us back at a substantial discount. We were a little bit tempted, I have to admit. The thing about it is that Palm Island is really small and we did everything the island had to offer. MT and I both think that although another visit there would be great, it wouldn't be the same as it was this February because part of the reason we had such a great time there was because of the people we hung out with. Besides, there are plenty of wonderful places in the world, and even in the Caribbean, that we would like to visit. Maybe we'll go back to Palm Island someday, but it probably won't be soon. (Unless someone we know and love wanted to go there really a lot and offered to pay for part of the trip and we rented one of the amazing villas...I'm just saying...)
Anyway, I took the brochure to my office and I hung the picture on the wall by my computer so that I could gaze at it when I was feeling like taking a mental break. The pic on the brochure looks a lot like the pic at the beginning of this post, but without the people in the water. What a gorgeous beach! The sand is white and soft. The water is clear and warm and the most beautiful blue color you can imagine.
The water is also full of fish. I remember the first day we went to the beach there and I was standing right on the edge of the water, letting it lap my toes and splash up onto my legs. I remember thinking how lucky I was to be there and how great the week was going to be, hanging out on this pretty island and playing in this spectacular water.
Then I looked down to see hundreds of little fish swimming right up by my toes. There were silver and black-tipped angelfish that were as big as the palm of my hand. There were little silver fish that looked like little torpedoes. There were fish that looked a lot like the neon tetras we used to have in our fish tank back in the day. Schools of fish! Flocks of fish! Menacing fish! I believe I shrieked. To me, those fish were saying, "Hey lady! This is our home! Don't put your bright red toes (I had a pedicure!) in our home. Stay out! Stay out!" To me, those fish were patrolling the shore, trying to bully land-lubbers like myself to stay on the land.
I didn't get in the water. I could not get over my fear of the fish. It amazed me to see people, including MT, just walk right into the water and hang out when the fish were swimming all around them. It irritated me when people would bring rolls from the restaurant to the water to feed the fish. What a frenzy! The fish would jump out of the water to get to the bread.
For the first six days we were on the island, I didn't get in the water at the beach. When I got hot, I would go to the fish-free pool and get wet and cool off, then come back to the beach to hang out with MT and the others. They laughed at me, but I didn't care. I couldn't do it.
Finally, on the last day we were there, I decided that I had to get in the water. Instead of thinking the fish were patrolling the shore, I told myself that the fish were inviting me into their paradise. "Come in, nice lady!" they were saying to me now. "We won't hurt you. We think you are nice! Come see where we live. It's wonderful here! Play with us."
I waited until another person entered the water and all the fish went to that person and I ran into the water, straight to MT. I told myself not to look down into the water. Just enjoy the feeling of the water caressing me. Enjoy the warmth. Enjoy being with the people. Don't think about the fish.
I was good for about a minute, then out of the corner of my eye I saw the fish all surrounding me. I yelled and jumped on MT's back. I'm sure he's thankful that I'm not as big as I used to be or I might have drowned him. I swear I tried to climb up on top of his head. I was freaking out. I got out of the water as quickly as I could. Yes, I made a complete ass out of myself and I KNOW the other people were shaking their heads and thinking that I was a complete nut job, but I had no pride left anyway, so what did I care?
And that's the minute that I learned something about myself: I knew that I would never be good at snorkeling. I mean, the whole purpose of snorkeling is to look at the fish, and I learned that I don't really want to look at the fish that closely. I don't want them to be around me, and I will sacrifice playing in the water where fish are plainly visible to avoid them.
I've been to many beaches and I'm sure there have probably been fish around - heck, I remember out on Coche Island seeing a freakin' jellyfish out in the water! - but maybe the water in other places wasn't as clear. Or maybe the fish weren't as protective of their shore as the Palm Island fish. I don't know. What I'm saying is that I know that fish live in the water and I know they are out there, but I haven't really noticed that many fish before. I'm quite sure I will continue to go to beaches and get in the water. I'll just be on the lookout for the shore sentries.
The End.
No comments:
Post a Comment