I knew as soon as I hit the water that I had made a terrible mistake.
It was 2012 and we were visiting Australia with our 11 and 13-year-olds. We had visited Brisbane and had had a wonderful encounter with koalas. Now we were in Cairns to see Daintree National Park and the Great Barrier Reef.
This is relevant, as I am about to describe: I am terrified of large open water. I do not like swimming in the ocean or lakes. I’m fine close to shore if the water is not too deep and is clear enough for me to have good visibility.
But even those parameters are not always acceptable to my brain: I once did a swimming challenge in which I swam 676 laps in a standard 25m pool, which was the equivalent of swimming the distance of the English Channel. It took me months to do that and I cannot tell you how many times I reached the deep end and momentarily panicked over the depth and possibility of sharks. I know it’s ridiculous, but as I said, I’m not comfortable in water.
I never once told my children about my fear of the water because I wanted them to engage with water on their terms and develop their own relationship with it. My husband knew about my fear and never told them either. We took them to pools, beaches, and lakes and I managed to hide my fears. We made sure that both children took swimming lessons and could actually swim.
So back in Australia… To see the Great Barrier Reef, we booked an excursion on a boat that would take us many miles out to sea. We would have the option to snorkel and also look through a glass-bottom boat. On the boat, both of my children studied the posters with illustrations about the types of sea life we might see. We all listened attentively to the guides about how to snorkel and what we could expect.
Ah yes, snorkeling. My husband had snorkeled in the Caribbean when he was a kid, but our children and I had never tried it. The excursion crew had said that they would provide all equipment and instructions, and that this would be an acceptable activity for beginners.
When the time came, we struggled into the wetsuits provided and figured out what to do with the masks and snorkles. As instructed — and as was our habit as parents — we decided on a buddy system: My husband would partner our 11 year old and I would partner our 13 year old. They jumped off the back of the boat and started splashing around happily. My older daughter and I jumped in after them.
The water was colder than I was expecting and there was some chop. Unfortunately, we were in 40’ of water, which I only discovered right before we jumped in, and the water itself looked dark blue all around us. It was not crystal clear like I had imagined it. Between my nerves and the chop, I could not force myself to put my face in the water to look down. In fact, I was feeling more and more anxious with each passing seconds and desperately wanted to get out of the water. However, I was determined to stay calm and help my daughter have a good time.
So that was my thought process in the first 30 seconds we were in the water. I turned to look at my daughter and she was looking at me, not down in the water. Before I could say anything, she said, “Mom, I really don’t like this. Can we go back to the boat?” Oh yes, my darling child, I would happily accompany you back to the safety of the big boat.
Oh yes, the boat. We had jumped into the water, whereupon the current started moving us away from the boat, so in our minute in the water the gap had widened. That didn’t matter to us, we swam with alacrity and if we could have sprinted on top of the water like cartoon characters, we would have.
Back on the boat, we gratefully peeled off the wetsuits and returned all the gear to the boat crew. Then we stretched out in the sunshine to dry off and warm up. My daughter let me know that she was actually really afraid of water but hadn’t wanted to disappoint us by not trying snorkeling. I told her about my own fears about the water.
Meanwhile, out in the water, Husband and Child #2 were engrossed in the world down below. They were out there for a while, probably close to half an hour. Then they came back to the boat, because our child said they needed to warm up. My husband went back into the water to continue snorkeling.
While the three of us were lying in the sun, my 11 year old looked at me and confided, “I wasn’t really cold. I just saw a barracuda in the water, thought of Finding Nemo, and decided I was done.”
Since then, we’ve been snorkeling in the Bahamas, Bali, and Hawaii. We’ve learned that we all like snorkeling from the shore, where we can walk into the water and choose our preferred depths. There’s also a spot in Maui where the water is only 12’ deep and crystal clear, so snorkeling there works for all four of us. For deeper and longer excursions, the other two go off without us.
How about you? What are your feelings about water? Do you snorkel or dive?
Fear of deep, dark water…I like dry land, and the views of water from a safe distance.
Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes! You know me- I probably am not always appropriately afraid of things on land. Water, however, features in my nightmares. The story of you swimming laps and reaching the deep end?! Hello!!! For me though it’s more a ‘I cannot stand up here!’. Forget the snorkels- there are picture books for this kind of experience. I’m happy dipping my toes in - ankles and lower legs if I’m feeling particularly courageous.