Storytime, Travel

That Time I Thought I was Going to Die. Literally.

This is the story about how I was sure I would be dead. No, it isn’t the story of my first experience with an anxiety attack, and it has nothing to do with being the passenger in Johnny’s Silver Surfer.

Allison and I lived in Hawaii for a year and a half. The opportunity came up to finish our undergrad degrees at a small private school close to Oahu’s “Fabled” North Shore. Let me tell you, the North Shore lives up to every fable and fairy tale you’ve ever heard about it.

On Oahu, there is a legendary beach. In the winter, playing in the waves there is excellent because the bottom is soft and sandy and the waves are amazing for bodysurfing. In the summer, the water is clear and smooth as glass. You can get in line to “jump the rock” into the water, and then once you’re under go find an octopus or a turtle or go chase around some cuttle fish. If you’ve got healthy lungs and quick legs, you can even swim underneath the Jump Rock to the other side!

Jump Rock!

The sand is deep and there’s lots of it and it gets hot, so “slippas” are a must. There’s parking for early-birds and a great rinse-off spot with toilets.

This legend has been home to legendary surfers like Duke Kahanamoku and sung about by the legendary Beach Boys.

This place is the legen- wait for it… – dary, LEGENDARY Waimea Bay.

I was sure I would join the ranks of those who’ve died in that beautiful water. Not from a wipe out. Not from a shark.

See: Sandy bottom. Almost wipe-out-death-proof.

Death by Dolphins.

It was a wonderfully overcast June morning. Allison’s cousin, Emily, and Aunt Jenny came to visit us in Laie. After a rough experience on the rocks snorkeling at Shark’s Cove, we elected to go relax at Waimea. It was early – about 7AM. We were the second car in the lot, and the only other humans we could see were on a couple of paddle boards about 100 yards into the bay. Aunt Jenny and Emily were a bit scratched up, so they elected to just sit on the sand rather than swim, a better-safe-than-sorry strategy to avoid sharks smelling the blood from their scrapes and having a bit of a chomp-chomp.

Just as we laid out all the towels for some ultimate peaceful ocean-side relaxation, Aunt Jenny pointed out into the bay.

“Oh, look! Dolphins!”

And sure enough, there were dolphins all over the place out by the paddle boarders. They were jumping and flipping and squeaking.

One of my all-time Hawaii (and life) goals has been to see wild dolphins under the water. I figured because there were other humans out there, it was safe enough. I grabbed my snorkel gear and headed into the water.

“Peace out, you guys. I’m going to the dolphins.”

I was amazed at how clear the water was and also how “shallow” it was out in the bay. Probably around 30 feet deep and clear all the way to the sandy bottom. I was kind of nervous though because I have never been alone in water this open before. Every rock and every fish and every turtle I suspected could be something that would kill me. I kept checking behind me in case of a sneak attack from a shark. Because sharks can be jerks. But I was determined to get to the dolphins.

I just want to see the dolphins under the water. I could hear them clicking and squeaking. I just want to watch them. Then I’ll turn around.

Then I saw some. A whole POD of them! At least 10 or 12 at first. They were swimming together from the left side of the bay and headed to the right (probably South to North but whatever). I was completely satisfied. I won. All done. Time to turn around.

And then, all at once, the whole pod turned toward me.

They think I’m coming after their babies.

They came faster. Straight toward me. Unbelievably fast. So fast. The best fast. So fast you have no idea. Stupendously fast. Tremendously fast. Yuge speed. Bigly.

They think I’m coming to mess with their babies, and now they are going to kill me. There were about 20 dolphins in this group.

I knew the end of my life story was that I would be the guy who was killed by ferocious dolphins. I mean, their cousins are called the “Killer Whale” after all! (See footnote!) My life flashed before my eyes. There was nothing I could do. I hoped my wife knew that I loved her. I mean really, REALLY loved her. I braced for impact as they were now only a few feet away. This is it. This is how it ends.

And then they stopped. They surrounded me. They swam around me in circles. They jumped and did tricks over top of me. They spun and rolled beneath me. The little baby dolphins and their mothers swam right up to my face. More dolphins came to play. I stopped counting after 30 or so. I swam around under the water with them. The moms nursed their little baby dolphins right next to me. Then just as awesomely as they came, they moved on. It felt like forever but I was probably around five minutes. Still, long enough to have a great time and be inducted into the family as an honorary dolphin.

Complete euphoria. That is what I felt. I swam back to the beach absolutely pumped. As I told the story to people. They often responded with a bit of skepticism (as they should). “Pics or it didn’t happen!” is how some responded. SO GUESS WHAT. WE GOT A GOPRO AND ALLISON AND I WENT BACK AND SWAM WITH THE DOLPHINS AGAIN! SO HERE’S THE PICS! (The only differences were that it was rainy this time so the water was kinda murky, and Allison wasn’t interested in getting too close. Also only about half the dolphins as the first time.