Like Gilligan's island...a storm and near wreck.. but we're back on land now...
So yesterday (Wednesday April 9), started out incredible our first day of sun on this Island and with an 8 hour scuba diving tour on a small boat with 5 other people...everything was just perfect when about an hour into the choppy waters off this island Paula started feeling a bit woozy.
She fought it off hopeing that when we arrived at the dive spot everything would calm down....didn't happen quite that way...
Without a moments notice the ocean was gently speckled with the delicious breakfast we had earlier that morning... bright oranges, reds, yellows were spurting out of my poor wife's mouth faster than a Formula 1 racecar and with a rath similiar to that unleashed by a Hawaian volcanoe after centuries of dormancy! I never knew a woman can unload quite that way...boy did I see some amazing things jet out of her mouth and into the ocean below...
So we arrive at the dive spot and suddenly it all calmed down, Paula was feeling sick but the vomiting stopped and we thought it best to jump in the water to cool off....BAD idea, quickly after jumping in it all came back...but this was the dive sight so it was not the best place to expulse.
Paula was desperate to get to land but the only thing around was some huge coral covered rocks and worst of all strong waves crashing upon them. The dive master felt that it wasn't so bad but did worry that we were going to cut ourselves climbing onto the rocks, so much so that he didn't let us wear the wet suit we had ready for the dive. It didn't matter at this point it was Paula and I, to fend for ourselves, against the rocks.
We did just that, we took a life perserver sandles and swam to the rocks. Honestly this was not the most intelligent thing to do but the desperation that Paula was feeling to get to land, being that it was so close, made us take the risk and try for it.
We get to the rocks, about 100 feet away, and realize that the thorn covered coral was much fiercer looking now from a few feet away. We had to try though, the first attempt, with the waves forcing us against the rocks was futile and only helped me get thorns wedged into the sole of my left foot. Intelligently, my hands were covered with my sandles that I was using for this very reason, to avoid the sharp coral but the feet were bare. The next attempt worked because I wedged the hard plastic life preserver in between two smaller rocks and rested my knee to get up the side of the rock. Once on top, the coral was much softer and the panick set in....how do I help Paula up this rock without her getting cut up. We tried the life preserver idea again and with one hand tried to pull her up, unfortunately she did cut her hands, feet, thighs. The cuts were minor and she did not even notice so long as she was on firm ground. It really was one of those moments in life that I will never forget because we had some of the most intense emotions in such a short period of time, from desperation that the sea sickness would not end hours from a real shore, to panic and doom that the rocks, corals, waves would cause us real harm, to overwhelming joy that we were on top of the rocks and we were going to be alright, both of us!
++++++----------+++++++
Now the blog that I wrote above I had started on Wednesday evening but did not complete until now...the emotions that we felt that day with the rock incident now pale in comparison to the fear only hours ago we experienced coming on the boat to the mainland from Ihla Grande. Honestly, the last 24-30 hours have been extremely nerve racking.
Now, if my mom is reading this, please know that we are 100 percent okay and not to worry, we are once again on land and all is okay (no more islands for us on this trip).
So, our plan was to leave Ihla Grande on the 5PM (Thursday) boat back to the mainland of Brazil which is about 1.5-2 hour trip. It all started out great and Paula was even feeling fine since this was a bigger boat (about 50 ft) with about 30 people aboard. As the sun set we felt the first of the raindrops. About 45 minutes into the trip the ocean became harsh, the rain was blinding, the darkness of the storm was utterly humbling. The mood of the entire boat plumeted as the roar of the rain piercing the plastic canopy deafened our ears. Everybody from one side of the boat moved to the center to avoid the rain pelting them, luckily Paula, myself, and an Austrian dude named Thomas were sitting on the dry side. All seemed manageable and I even pulled out my camera to film when suddenly we heard the fear in the captain's voice and demeanor that we should stop moving about the boat because it destabalized the boat.
Of course, although this was a 50 foot boat it remained tiny compared to the ocean swells that could overtake it at any instance.
At that point, we grew more nervous, with life jackets on now (the captain irresponsibly did not require it at any point, unbelievable!) A few of us stood to keep watch for rocks and smaller boats that might be in our paths. You see these boats are all old and the headlamps were absolutely useless in this storm. The storm ravaged the sides of the boat and it literally came to the point that Paula and I were searching for the nearest point to swim to if it came to that... Many times in what seemed like eternity, my legs shook with fear, the very notion that we could fall into this stormy ocean and have to swim to rocks , larger and in these dark, ocean raging conditions, a hundred times worse than what had happened to us only a day earlier was more than difficult to accept. Our reality was a meek one until I saw some lights on what seemed like a small island, as we approached it all of the tension I felt eased up slightly because now we had a chance to swim somewhere if need be. The captain slowed down as if to look for a dock and what seemed like a break from this storm. I remember shouting out that we could pull in but he kept a distance of about 200-300 ft from shore...when I noticed that he kept moving past potential docks I began shouting that we must stop. I was fuckin' furious that he was not stopping and that nobody was saying a damn thing. Everybody was silent, I could not believe the carelessness that the other men on this boat had. They were putting at risk so many lives by not saying a thing. I kept shouting and nothing, a mutiny seemed impossible and my own confidence in the decision to stop waned. The waves were growing again as we left this shorline and the boat tipped from side to side, I was furious but scared, felt helpless, unsure of what to do or say...I would look down at Paula and reassure her that if anything happened, I would never let her go and we would swim together to something...
Scanning the surrounding again we could see nothing it was pitch black, and it was clear that the captain could see nothing because he was standing 2 feet from us. See this was a 30 year old wooden boat with the control box in the center, completely open to us. I saw not one electronic instrument, the jackass did not even have a light to see his controls.
This stress lasted another eternity and as our bags and our bodies became thoroughly soaked because the rain was getting us from every single direction, I started looking at how the impact onto any stray rock or smaller boat would clearly smack us over the edge. How could I hold onto Paula and figure out what direction to swim to. It was the most nerve racking experience in my entire life. These words do it no justice.
Continually scanning the direction the boat was heading and trying to stand without falling with the badly rocking boat we finally cleared a mid sized rock island and saw lights from what had to be the mainland. I heard some sighs of relief and some retarts from the passengers applaud and as more people saw the lights they too applauded. At that moment I was furious, I wanted to rip the irresponsible captains head off. I thought that all the weak men and women on this boat had put all of our lives in danger by not saying anything earlier when there was a potential port to slow down and even stop at. The worst and saddest part of this was as I scanned the boat at the people, there were probably about 10 people with life jackets, Paula, myself, thomas, another girl and what seemed like locals. I would say the people who truly understood the severity of our predicament.
One thing I have learned of perpetual travelers is that they are extreme risk takers and do not seem to value consequences quite the right way, perhaps that is why they are always "out there".
My life and Paula's life are much too important to ever risk like that. We need to sit back now and see how to have approached this situation any differently.
NOTE:yesterday before leaving Ihla Grande and falling helpless on this Odyssey, I had to go to the local clinic to get thorns pulled out of my left foot (from the rock incident), so on top of all that, I was working with a bandaged foot....Not the best for swimming...luckily we didn't have to!
She fought it off hopeing that when we arrived at the dive spot everything would calm down....didn't happen quite that way...
Without a moments notice the ocean was gently speckled with the delicious breakfast we had earlier that morning... bright oranges, reds, yellows were spurting out of my poor wife's mouth faster than a Formula 1 racecar and with a rath similiar to that unleashed by a Hawaian volcanoe after centuries of dormancy! I never knew a woman can unload quite that way...boy did I see some amazing things jet out of her mouth and into the ocean below...
So we arrive at the dive spot and suddenly it all calmed down, Paula was feeling sick but the vomiting stopped and we thought it best to jump in the water to cool off....BAD idea, quickly after jumping in it all came back...but this was the dive sight so it was not the best place to expulse.
Paula was desperate to get to land but the only thing around was some huge coral covered rocks and worst of all strong waves crashing upon them. The dive master felt that it wasn't so bad but did worry that we were going to cut ourselves climbing onto the rocks, so much so that he didn't let us wear the wet suit we had ready for the dive. It didn't matter at this point it was Paula and I, to fend for ourselves, against the rocks.
We did just that, we took a life perserver sandles and swam to the rocks. Honestly this was not the most intelligent thing to do but the desperation that Paula was feeling to get to land, being that it was so close, made us take the risk and try for it.
We get to the rocks, about 100 feet away, and realize that the thorn covered coral was much fiercer looking now from a few feet away. We had to try though, the first attempt, with the waves forcing us against the rocks was futile and only helped me get thorns wedged into the sole of my left foot. Intelligently, my hands were covered with my sandles that I was using for this very reason, to avoid the sharp coral but the feet were bare. The next attempt worked because I wedged the hard plastic life preserver in between two smaller rocks and rested my knee to get up the side of the rock. Once on top, the coral was much softer and the panick set in....how do I help Paula up this rock without her getting cut up. We tried the life preserver idea again and with one hand tried to pull her up, unfortunately she did cut her hands, feet, thighs. The cuts were minor and she did not even notice so long as she was on firm ground. It really was one of those moments in life that I will never forget because we had some of the most intense emotions in such a short period of time, from desperation that the sea sickness would not end hours from a real shore, to panic and doom that the rocks, corals, waves would cause us real harm, to overwhelming joy that we were on top of the rocks and we were going to be alright, both of us!
++++++----------+++++++
Now the blog that I wrote above I had started on Wednesday evening but did not complete until now...the emotions that we felt that day with the rock incident now pale in comparison to the fear only hours ago we experienced coming on the boat to the mainland from Ihla Grande. Honestly, the last 24-30 hours have been extremely nerve racking.
Now, if my mom is reading this, please know that we are 100 percent okay and not to worry, we are once again on land and all is okay (no more islands for us on this trip).
So, our plan was to leave Ihla Grande on the 5PM (Thursday) boat back to the mainland of Brazil which is about 1.5-2 hour trip. It all started out great and Paula was even feeling fine since this was a bigger boat (about 50 ft) with about 30 people aboard. As the sun set we felt the first of the raindrops. About 45 minutes into the trip the ocean became harsh, the rain was blinding, the darkness of the storm was utterly humbling. The mood of the entire boat plumeted as the roar of the rain piercing the plastic canopy deafened our ears. Everybody from one side of the boat moved to the center to avoid the rain pelting them, luckily Paula, myself, and an Austrian dude named Thomas were sitting on the dry side. All seemed manageable and I even pulled out my camera to film when suddenly we heard the fear in the captain's voice and demeanor that we should stop moving about the boat because it destabalized the boat.
Of course, although this was a 50 foot boat it remained tiny compared to the ocean swells that could overtake it at any instance.
At that point, we grew more nervous, with life jackets on now (the captain irresponsibly did not require it at any point, unbelievable!) A few of us stood to keep watch for rocks and smaller boats that might be in our paths. You see these boats are all old and the headlamps were absolutely useless in this storm. The storm ravaged the sides of the boat and it literally came to the point that Paula and I were searching for the nearest point to swim to if it came to that... Many times in what seemed like eternity, my legs shook with fear, the very notion that we could fall into this stormy ocean and have to swim to rocks , larger and in these dark, ocean raging conditions, a hundred times worse than what had happened to us only a day earlier was more than difficult to accept. Our reality was a meek one until I saw some lights on what seemed like a small island, as we approached it all of the tension I felt eased up slightly because now we had a chance to swim somewhere if need be. The captain slowed down as if to look for a dock and what seemed like a break from this storm. I remember shouting out that we could pull in but he kept a distance of about 200-300 ft from shore...when I noticed that he kept moving past potential docks I began shouting that we must stop. I was fuckin' furious that he was not stopping and that nobody was saying a damn thing. Everybody was silent, I could not believe the carelessness that the other men on this boat had. They were putting at risk so many lives by not saying a thing. I kept shouting and nothing, a mutiny seemed impossible and my own confidence in the decision to stop waned. The waves were growing again as we left this shorline and the boat tipped from side to side, I was furious but scared, felt helpless, unsure of what to do or say...I would look down at Paula and reassure her that if anything happened, I would never let her go and we would swim together to something...
Scanning the surrounding again we could see nothing it was pitch black, and it was clear that the captain could see nothing because he was standing 2 feet from us. See this was a 30 year old wooden boat with the control box in the center, completely open to us. I saw not one electronic instrument, the jackass did not even have a light to see his controls.
This stress lasted another eternity and as our bags and our bodies became thoroughly soaked because the rain was getting us from every single direction, I started looking at how the impact onto any stray rock or smaller boat would clearly smack us over the edge. How could I hold onto Paula and figure out what direction to swim to. It was the most nerve racking experience in my entire life. These words do it no justice.
Continually scanning the direction the boat was heading and trying to stand without falling with the badly rocking boat we finally cleared a mid sized rock island and saw lights from what had to be the mainland. I heard some sighs of relief and some retarts from the passengers applaud and as more people saw the lights they too applauded. At that moment I was furious, I wanted to rip the irresponsible captains head off. I thought that all the weak men and women on this boat had put all of our lives in danger by not saying anything earlier when there was a potential port to slow down and even stop at. The worst and saddest part of this was as I scanned the boat at the people, there were probably about 10 people with life jackets, Paula, myself, thomas, another girl and what seemed like locals. I would say the people who truly understood the severity of our predicament.
One thing I have learned of perpetual travelers is that they are extreme risk takers and do not seem to value consequences quite the right way, perhaps that is why they are always "out there".
My life and Paula's life are much too important to ever risk like that. We need to sit back now and see how to have approached this situation any differently.
NOTE:yesterday before leaving Ihla Grande and falling helpless on this Odyssey, I had to go to the local clinic to get thorns pulled out of my left foot (from the rock incident), so on top of all that, I was working with a bandaged foot....Not the best for swimming...luckily we didn't have to!
At this point, I am writing from a bus as we make our way down to Sao Paulo. We should be arriving there by 5AM and want to catch a flight down south to Ushuaia. We'll let you know if we can get affordable tickets!
Sent by Jeffrey via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
posted by 2400hours at
1:54 AM
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