I thought it be a day without promise, but it turned into one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life. It all began when we boarded a boat to the private island of Rosario, named after the beaded necklace which guides so many Catholics in solemn prayer.
Upon arrival we were given a brief orientation by the island’s staff. That was when I first noticed the air tanks used for scuba. No sooner than then idea had struck me, did Jorge, the sexiest Colombian scuba instructor appear before me to guarantee, it would be an experience that I would remember forever. Pfhh, I’m in.
But as we rode out to the dive site, I wondered why I wasn’t getting a lesson first – something in shallow water, perhaps. But this was Colombia – a quick 10 minute run-down was all that was required. And with noise of the boat’s motor, all I heard was something about lungs blowing up and ears exploding. This concerned me, to say the least.
But then there I was, sitting on the edge of the boat like Jacques Cousteau, while the boat hand shoved me off the ledge and into the water. Thank goodness for Jorge, my gorgeous hot panty. He swam over to me and told me that I could hold his hand the entire dive. He held me in his arms while he slowly brought me down like an experienced lover gently deflowers a virgin.
But as we went deeper and deeper, I couldn’t reconcile what was happening – the idea that I could breathe underwater seemed impossible and incomprehensible. I felt pressure in my lungs and pain in my ears so I bit down on my mouth piece as hard as I could. I thought if it fell out of my mouth my lungs and ears would explode – as least that is what I thought I heard from the lesson.
But Jorge kept me calm. He motioned for me to blow my nose and to slow down my breathing. I did and was then able to cope. I stayed extremely focused in order to control my fear. I got into “the zone” and tried to stay there, but at times felt myself begin to unravel. Jorge even tried to point out things of beauty in the sea – but I couldn’t appreciate any of it.
After the dive, we went back to the shore to reloaded our tanks. I was told that we were going again. I was doing no such thing.
But while we were re-loading I spoke with a young Colombian girl about diving. I told her that my jaw was sore from biting down so tightly on my mouthpiece. She laughed, and told me that I wouldn’t die if my mouthpiece fell out of my mouth. She explained what I should do if it did. I then told her that I had pressure in my chest and couldn’t breadth. She laughed again, and told me that was the result of panic. Now I felt foolish, so I agreed to go again – since I knew that I wasn’t going to die.
Jorge brought me down as he did before, again holding me tenderly. I blew my ears out as needed and continued down to the reef cliffs. The drop-off looked frightening. I felt like I was on the moon and moving slowly in outer space. I was very aware of my surroundings and was still afraid. But slowly the fear subsided and I felt myself pull away from Jorge. It was majestic and I saw it for all its marvel and beauty.
When we ascended, I felt totally high. I got into the boat and was overwhelmed by a feeling of calm. I was intoxicated. I looked at Jorge and was in love – not sure if it was with him or scuba or lamp (Anchorman reference); but something inside me stirred. I felt like I had sex for the first time – and even shared that thought with Jorge. He told me that I will now never forget him – because you always remember you’re first.