So it might not surprise you that I wanted to undertake windsurfing in the
We went to the
In chatting with some other guests, one of them was a wind-surfing champion from
I only had to tell a partial and tiny lie to the man at the equipment dock. He asked if I had lessons. I said yes. While I could infer that he meant "are you trained and ready" I simply took his words at face value. Had I had lessons? Yes. One twenty minute lesson OR if you broke it down, two ten-minute lessons which qualify as plural. He didn't ask where I had them, from whom, or how long but I guess he assumed if I would employ some lawyer-ly trickery to undermine my own safety, then I was beyond his reach.
And we know, safety first.
There is a reason people like him, who work on the beach, ask these questions.
I took the board out with the help of my two "instructors". The wind was perfect and I pulled that sail up in about 2 seconds and felt the speed pick up as I traversed the waves. Boats and jet skis bounded by me, and with a friendly wave I celebrated my coup. I was actually zigzagging across the watery terrain, and I felt like Annick Graveline. Or at the minimum, Baywatch material (sans permanently implanted "life preservers"). All was going well and clearly, they got some great pics from the shore.
I was impressed by how quickly you can move across the water. What did not impress me was the moment the wind ceased. For it was only at that moment did I realize how far from shore I had come. And then I realized that I had failed to inquire what you do when the wind halts. Uh oh. I had to drop the sail because gravity was working against me. So there I sat in the
After about ten minutes, I seemed to be drifting in the wrong direction. I had no windpower. Oh, and I was on a bit of a schedule. I had a flight to catch.
Finally, I see another windsurfer heading my way. I flag him down (he, adept enough at the sport to cruise right over to me). Only to discover he spoke zero English. He kept pointing at the sun, smiling, and saying "Mucho calor!" Yes, I know its hot. I have become quite aware of the burning sun as I float aimlessly around the Ocean.
I decide to try to pull the sail out, discard it, and paddle back on the surfboard. How to remove the sail? Oh, that was apparently going to be covered in another future lesson.
Finally I say F. it, and I am going to simply have to swim back sans board. I see off in the distance that there is a touch of a crowd gathered on the shore where I left which may be comprised of my friends who certainly know I have had no windsurfing lessons.
As I am pulling the sail towards the board, I cut my hand. And not a paper cut because of course, I am not handling paper here. I jump in the water but there is actually quite a bit of blood. You know who likes blood? Sharks.
Now for a lesson in zoology. Do you know what the Tiger Sharks nickname is? Garbage Can of the Ocean because it will eat anything. Due to its aggressive nature of eating, the Tiger Shark doesn't slow down to study its food. License plates, suits of armor, baseballs, and even a petroleum can have been found inside the digestive track of a Tiger Shark so I know my gams would be but a mere appetizer.
Oh, and Tiger Sharks eat all of you. Not just a bite or two. And because of their incredibly keen sense of smell and their ability to detect low frequency pressure waves, the can detect the faintest trace of blood and follow it precisely to its source.
In this case, me. Me, the crafty clever one who swore I had windsurfing lessons before I cut my hand open in the middle of the Ocean.
Now, I was starting to realize I had no plan to fix my situation. A tiny bit of angst washed over me. Finally, after about 20 more minutes, I see a boat coming. I stand on my board and wave and wave and wave until they had no other choice but to change direction. As the boat pulled over, with dozens of people aboard, I plead my plight. The Captain laughed and other people merely gave me a pitiful look.
The captain radioed back to the beach. Sure enough, in about five minutes two cabanas boys on the 60 horsepower
I had 15 minutes to change and get in the waiting cab to the airport. As I was departing, one of the lifeguards said, "So I guess you won't do that again?"
Well, certainly not here.