Sea Fear

In March of 2012, my oldest daughter and I traveled to the island of St. Thomas to visit my parents who were living there as missionaries. Our first morning on the island, my mom drove us to the beautiful beach of Hull Bay so we could snorkel. She would use my dad's snorkeling gear to show us what to do and where to go, while my daughter and I would take turns using my mom's gear.

That cool, early morning, I was happy to sit on the white sand and read while my daughter used my mom's mask, snorkel, and fins.

I actually had no desire to go in the water that day, partly because I was afraid of the sea and its creatures. I figured I'd gradually warm up to it. Oceans have made me a little nervous since I was four when I was trapped in a wave that pounded sand into every part of me off the coast of California.

My mom said they often saw stingrays when they were snorkeling around the Virgin Islands. That made me think about Steve Irwin who was killed by the barb of a stingray in Australia six years earlier. I had no interest in encountering a stingray or any other sea creature. I would be fine watching and safely reading on the beach. I figured I might eventually try snorkeling on this trip, but definitely not today.

Unsurprisingly, my brave daughter quickly got the hang of snorkeling. Every once in a while, I’d look up and watch her and my mom kicking their fins along the top of the sea with their heads down in the water. They’d rise up occasionally with big smiles on their faces.

Eventually, my daughter walked like a duck back toward me on the beach with water dripping off the mask on her forehead, the snorkel dangling to the side. She was smiling. When she got closer, I was a little worried she’d get my book wet.

"Mom, I swam with a sea turtle!" she said excitedly, "You should see it before it swims away!"

A sea turtle! Her joy was contagious. I was intrigued. I’ve always loved turtles. It was easy to envision my daughter swimming with the sea turtle. I wanted that experience.

 Immediately, all hesitation left me. My desire to swim with a sea turtle overwrote all my fears of the sea and its creatures. My daughter couldn’t get the mask and fins off or hand them to me fast enough. I had to see that sea turtle before it swam away.

After very little instruction, I sat down in the waves and scooted myself into the clear, warm water. With blue sky above and white sand below, I kept my face down and kicked along the surface. I swam in a big circle in search of the turtle. I hoped I hadn’t missed it. 

Then I saw it! The sea turtle was probably no bigger than a pillow, but it was amazing how it moved its flippers through the water. It turned and looked at me as if inviting me to follow. So I did.

After that morning at Hull Bay, I snorkeled fearlessly at other St. Thomas beaches where I touched a rainbow fish and saw a lot of other beautiful sea life. I never did see a stingray on that trip, but my daughter did, and I was happy for her.