As we head south to warm sun, sand and water. I am reminded of a day, many years ago, when I was faced with a (hopefully) once in a lifetime challenge. I wrote about that experience for a couple of reasons then. The first was because I was afraid I would forget. I didn't want to forget and I was quite ill having swallowed half the water in Banderas Bay on the afternoon of March 6, 1999. I also wanted to clear my mind and move forward into the rest of my life, because I could... in time, return to almost normal (for me 😏. And so, I want to share my story with you; especially those of you who travel south for the winter into the world of warm water and big waves. Please let me share my story so that you may be just a wee bit safer and come home from your vacation in the same condition you left home. Here we go:
The Wave...
My eyes were open and my world was filled with pale green water and foaming sand. My mouth was open and I could feel the seawater pouring down my throat. I was helpless and I knew I could do nothing about it. There was no up. There was no down. I had been spun and tumbled and broken. My time was up and I was too tired to fight anymore. Those were my last thoughts (or so I imagined) before I brushed up against Kate's legs, and she reached down and grabbed me. But wait… let me explain.
We were having a wonderful holiday; a terrific and very special break from the rigors of home. All the troubles surrounding our day-to-day lives and our stressful jobs were left behind. We were in Puerto Vallarta, the sun was shining and we had met some wonderful friends.
This was the sixth day of our seven-day vacation. We spent the morning shopping for our friends at home. Our efforts hadn't been completely successful but we shook off the frustration and headed to the beach for some fish tacos and sun. What luck! We found two chairs and a table overlooking the water's edge. We slathered on the lotion and settled in to enjoy the warm sun.
The hot afternoon hours stretched on and we were both getting very warm. The tumultuous waves of the morning appeared to have calmed down; there were swimmers in the water, and Kate suggested we go for a dip. Getting into the water was a little more difficult than usual, because of the breakers, but by diving under a couple of the bigger waves, we were able to reach calmer water where we floated in the deep blue-green, watching the beach scene and talking. We were also watching the local parasailing boat as it approached us towing a customer. This boater was in the habit of dropping his yellow tow-rope right in the middle of the swimmers. Aware of this, we watched carefully and, sure enough, just when we were ready to head in he dropped the tow-rope right across our path. This meant we had to wait for him to retrieve it. Little did we know that, as we waited, our fate took a twisted turn.
The boat finally pulled the tow-rope away and our path was clear. Watching the waves carefully, we began to move towards shore. We waited and waited as groups of larger waves marched by and we moved closer to the shore during the calmer periods between them. It was a practice the local swimmers used and it had worked so far. There was no reason to believe it wouldn't work again. Sadly, we were very wrong.
Believing we were in a suitably calm period, Kate and I began swimming to shore. A stronger swimmer, Kate moved ahead of me and managed to get her feet on the bottom first. At this point we both realized the waves had built up again and we were about to get caught by some larger ones. We couldn't have known how large.
The first wave caught me and knocked me down. It was big and powerful and it pulled me out, away from the beach. I was too far out to swim back and, realizing the wave had met up with number "two" and grown even bigger, I tried to dive under it as it towered above me. This roaring wall of water picked me up, turned me over backwards, and started spinning me as it rushed to shore. I was spun and spun and twisted and turned. At some point my left leg must have hit the bottom but what I really remember is running out of air and becoming desperate for it.
My head finally broke the surface and I gulped as much air as I could. At the same time the water was buffeting me and it was the most powerful force I'd ever felt. Still being tossed around, I was trying to fight the water as well as stand up and make progress towards shore. I wasn't having much luck. At that point, I caught a glimpse of my left leg. With shock I realized I could only see the end of my leg. My foot wasn't where it was supposed to be. Instead, it was hanging off the back of my leg. My god! My foot was on backwards! The water continued to force me down and now it was pulling me away again. I stumbled. I struggled. I called to Kate. I yelled to the people on the beach, "Help, help me please, my ankle's broken." The people on shore just stood and stared. The roar of the rushing, tumbling water drowned my words.
Finally Kate heard me and saw the look on my face. "Kate," I called, "help me, my ankle's gone, it's broken!" She reached for me, and our hands met. We grabbed and hung on, but the water kept pulling at me. It was up past my waist and the pull was stronger than both of us. By now it was clear what was happening. As each wave hit the shore, it retreated and joined with the force of the next incoming wave. They were huge and getting bigger.
The suction of this wave was stronger than ever. We held on but our fingers were slipping. I could feel the sand beneath us sliding away. Kate was about to be pulled out with me. She was losing her footing. Our grasp slipped even further and finally I loosened my grip and let go of her hand. I yelled at her, "Go! Go! Get out of here! Get out of the water!" While still looking at the shore and Kate, I was pulled away by a force stronger than either of the previous ones. I turned and faced a wall of water; a mountain of water. It looked like a house. There wasn't time to do anything but take a deep breath of air, a breath that would be the last air I had for what seemed like an eternity. The wall of water picked me up, burying me deep inside its mass. I felt like I was in a tunnel traveling 40 miles an hour.
I was spun head over heels and then sideways, continually moving at a speed so fast I knew if I hit anything I'd be smashed to bits. I ran out of air. I tried desperately to find some. I couldn't. I didn't know which way was up or down. I thought about expelling some air to follow the bubbles but by then I didn't have any air left to give. As I looked out I realized I couldn't have seen a bubble anyway. It was all bubbles. Funny, what you think about in a flash. Now, my eyes were open. I saw the pale green water mixed with sand. The salt didn't even sting my eyes. I knew my mouth was open and I could feel cold salt water pouring down my throat. I couldn't stop it. I didn't even try. It just was. I remember thinking that this was it; that this must be what it was like. I forgot about my horror of drowning. I just relaxed.
A miracle saved my life. Against all odds, the same wave that dragged me out of Kate's grasp drove me right back to her in a straight line. I could have been in three feet of water or thirty. I didn't know, but I brushed up against Kate's legs and she was able to grab hold of me. By then, two fellows from the beach had come to help and together they wrestled me from the grip of the undertow. The wave receded without me this time and I was left, waist deep in water, holding onto my left leg, and being dragged out of the water and up onto the beach.
I will never forget the kindness and support of the people that day. One man held my hand and another covered me with his towel. Several stayed with me throughout the long wait for the ambulance. One fellow, security for a nearby hotel, even stood and blocked the sun while he told me funny stories and chatted with me. Several people offered me tequila. I should have taken some as the ambulance ride and hospital stay were something else…but that's another story for another day.
I survived the entire ordeal and, thanks to an excellent surgeon, recovered almost full use of my left foot and ankle. I learned a lot about myself. I also learned it is often a stranger who can best put another's life into perspective.
I met a woman on the plane going home. She told me her name was Padyavalli and, we talked about my brush with almost certain death, she told me that "life is like a drop of water on the edge of a leaf." I took some time to ponder her words. Later in the flight, after discussing the many good things that would come from this experience, she shared with me that "...sometimes when it rains, it just makes things greener..."
I believe her. And, with many lessons learned and several "messages" received, I am determined to do everything in my power to keep this experience in a positive place and to ensure things around me and in my life just keep "getting greener".
Several years have passed since that brush with death. My respect for big water remains undiminished and my memory of the "wave" is still available for instant recall. I share my story when I can, particularly the words of Padyavalli. We can all use a little green in our life.
