A shiver still runs down my spine each time I think about it. Fear grips my heart when water comes to my mind. So much so, I think I might have developed a phobia towards it as a whole.
I remember it like it was yesterday. What started out as an exciting cruise turned into an almost life-taking disaster. I was leaning against the ship’s railing and gazing into the Pacific Ocean — it was mesmerizing. The water was clear with an emerald touch as it rippled along the perimeter of the ship. I was counting the fish as they flopped and floundered about when an ugly jerk snapped me out of my reverie. It did not hit me as too much of a surprise considering the fact that it was not the first time it had happened. I reckoned that it might have been just another unfortunate aquatic animal collision until it took place again — and this time, harder.
We had encountered our old friend: the glacier. Yet, I was the only poor soul to have had to meet with such fate. The ship hauled me over as I failed to wrap my fingers around the rusty railing of the ship and fell straight into the water. It happened in such a flurry, I barely had time to react or call for help. It was not until my body was a part of the ocean that I allowed this to sink in (no pun intended).
My teeth chattered uncontrollably like those of a toy clown. I continuously kicked at the water and tried to fight it off aggressively, but nothing helped. The waves of the Pacific had taken over and threw me into awkward somersaults, twists and turns as I was engulfed. I could feel the icy water fill my lungs to the point I thought I would be unable to make it. I felt numb and eventually submitted to the ocean, waiting for the life left in my body to slowly slip away. The sound of the waves crashing and people screaming in the back were the only sounds that now rung through my ears. I made one last attempt to shriek and yell in hopes to be rescued; however, no luck prevailed.
I could no longer feel my limbs and thought to myself, “This is it. I am not going to make it out alive”, but then a miracle happened. Of course, I felt almost dead to do anything or to feel any sort of emotion in the moment, but gratefulness still filled me internally and I could not wait to see who my superhero was. I felt the intricately weaved net tickle my nearly paralyzed face and knew there was still hope for survival. I would have squealed with joy if I could. What were the odds of me being rescued even after being close to the bottom of the ocean?
I felt my body being heaved up with great difficulty by what seemed like a heavenly force in the moment. Icy water was no longer crashing against my pale skin and my nostrils were free to inhale, at last. I had never been more thankful for fresh air in my life!
My ‘superhero’ was certainly not as courteous as Superman or Spiderman, but he saved my life and that definitely counted for something. He cursed himself for ever rescuing me to begin with. Can you believe it? However, I still showed my gratitude towards him — Superman or not.