Katrina Bobson

I almost lost my brother and father on a windy day while on vacation in Grand Cayman. My parents surprised us with this weekend trip shortly before we were to embark from Miami. They told us to pack light but were elusive about where we were going or why. We were extremely flummoxed. When we arrived at the airport, we still did not know where we were going. My father printed out our tickets. Only then did I see “Grand Cayman” on the boarding pass. I’d heard of it before but did not know much about where it was or why we would go there. My parents finally explained we were going on a snorkel vacation in the diving capital of the world. The water was an idyllic turquoise with waves crashing over a protected reef. The sand was fluffy white, and the coconut palms drifted in the wind. At this point the sky was a beautiful blue with graceful white clouds- this would soon change. My mom and I decided to hang out in a hammock while my brother and father swam across the bay to the exposed reef and explore the colorful deep waters. For the moment, life was good. As they started to snorkel a hazardous strong current caught them off guard, caused by waves crashing over the reef and filling the bay. Swimming was clearly difficult because each time they stopped to rest they were propelled back to the beach. They were making slow progress on the half mile’s swim to the exposed reef and were just about worn out when they finally made it. I watched from the distance as they took off their fins to walk on the exposed boulders. They crossed the reef and entered into the breaking waves. I was alarmed that it was too dangerous to cross the surf zone into the deep water, but was relieved when they turned around to swim inside the protected reef to the cut. I watched them swimming along the calm water when they suddenly stopped- they must have noticed a change in underwater terrain. My father popped his head out and clearly noticed there was no more reef beside them. They were in the middle of the deeper waters of the cut and the crashing waves became a giant pump, filling the long bay with nowhere to escape. That’s when disaster struck. My father began to struggle from a severe leg cramp and could no longer swim. He was a cork in a massive rip tide. My brother swam over to check on him and I could see him gesture that they needed to get away. To make matters worse, a storm rolled in and the wind and waves increased, curling over the dangerous rip current. In an instant they both were propelled out to sea into deep open water. My brother would later tell me that as they struggled, he asked my dad “Are we going to die?”. My dad responded in his usual calm demeanor: “We are going to be just fine. I have a plan.” They swam across the current to get away, but it was almost a mile wide. The wind was angled to the current. The plan was to let the wind and waves carry them further from the beach and risk the current’s pull to take them beyond it. But

the storm had gotten darker. The white caps were blowing salt spray into their faces and the water was dark and foreboding. They started to backstroke towards the bay. As they once more approached the exposed reef the waves curled up over their heads, crashing down and separating them. Watching helplessly from shore, I could tell breathing became almost impossible for them. When my father finally got to the rocks, he once more took off his fins to climb up the boulders. As soon as he got the fin off another massive wave crashed down and ripped it effortlessly from his hand. I could see him realize he was in serious trouble because swimming back exhausted and without fins would be impossible. The next wave ripped the mask from his face and rolled him across the bottom of the exposed reef so hard that it ripped his stainless-steel dive watch off his arm without him even realizing. Nevertheless, he regained control and climbed up on the reef where he joined my brother. I could see them thanking God they were both alive. The adventure was not over. They rested for a few minutes trying to catch their breath when a strange miracle happened. Ten feet from them, to their complete disbelief, they found both fins sandwiched together, popped straight up out of the surf. Their prayers had been answered because there was no way my father could swim across the bay barefoot after having endured strong currents. From shore, my mother and I watched them swim across the bay toward shore about a half a mile north of us, bypassing the current. Adding to the struggle, without his prescription mask my father was blind, and they were swimming backward to conserve energy. They inadvertently got caught back once again in the rip current. Again they had to quickly swim across the current, and by the time they got out of it they had been transported back out just inside the cut which left them to swim across the half mile bay once again to shore. They then finally climbed ashore worn out and bedraggled. My father later went to the resort dive shop to see if he could get a new mask. He told the clerk the wild adventure they had just been on and she gasped and said that no one caught in that rip current had ever come back, and that they lost about seven people a year to that current. New mask in-hand, my dad walked across the beach and I asked: “Hey! Can we go for a swim and explore the bay?”