....................“Pick up your equipment and follow me to the swimming pool” commanded George Jack, the towering Barbadian native who was about to introduce me to scuba-diving.  

Having only a few minutes ago arrived at “The Dive Shop” on Pebble Beach, I’d just finished exchanging short pants for swim trunks, completed the mandatory legal waiver presented on a clipboard by owner Haroon Degia, and lathered up my snow-white body with number 75 sun screen.

After forty minutes intense instruction in the pool I’m now familiar with, yet still confused by “the equipment.”  Goggles, flippers, air tank, air and depth gauges, regulator and “octopus,” the lifeline used to exchange air with another diver in an emergency.  I’ve been shown how to clear the mask of water by holding my nose and blowing air out my mouth……or do I hold my ears and blow air out my nose?  

Around my waist hangs 50-60 pounds of lead weights needed to help sink me into the depths.  In my right hand, an important button to inflate the airbag that will hopefully reverse the…..sinking.

No wasting time around here.  Equipment fitted, I stagger across the hot sand chasing after George feeling, and no doubt looking like, an overweight penguin. A few tentative steps into the warm clear water to the back…..sorry, stern of our dive-boat then hauled on board by George.  

During our ride a mile or two into the still waters of the wide bay, my mind races through the many instructions.  This is serious stuff I think. Why hadn't I listened more carefully to George?

Now in the water, mask cleared, hand on the inflator/deflator button and sinking fast……What was that saying about sink or swim?  I decided to do both as directed by George.  Hands at sides, slow movements with my flipper assisted legs. 

Amazingly, at least to me,  I’m moving forward and down almost effortlessly. Silence except for the sound of oxygen bubbles being expelled.  Breathing is natural.  I’m surprised how quickly I’m adapting to this unfamiliar and potentially dangerous environment.  Thank you Jaques Coustou, inventor of scuba-diving. 

My depth gauge indicates 20 feet.  Below me I see the fuzzy outlines of at least two wooden shipwrecks.  George, always at my side, uses hand signals instructing me to first clear my ears, then follow him down to the wrecks. 

I direct arms, head and torso downwards whilst making several strong flipper assisted kicks.  The depth gauge indicates 25 feet.  Another determined attempt, this time trying hard to expel as much air as possible regardless of orifice.  Still around the 25 feet mark. 

George returns to my side, this time grabbing my harness then pulling me downwards through a school of thousands of small, brightly colored fish. ( I learned later I should have been loaded down with heavier weights). 

At 40 feet I stretch my arms expecting to touch the wreckage, but vision through the water can be deceiving.  Still assisted by George, vision becomes clearer as I descend a little closer.  Perhaps my metabolism has made further adjustments to pressure, for I can now remain comfortably at that depth unaided.  For the first time in my life, I am able to relax and observe in their natural habitat a few of the many varieties of marine life seen previously only on film or video.

For the next thirty minutes or so I follow George  around and through the narrow chasms between several coral-encrusted wrecks of varying size and state of disintegration, pausing occasionally as he points toward various reef fish, sponges, anemones and star fish.  Another unspoken thank you, this time to the sharks and sea-snakes…..for allowing me an unescorted tour of their home!

Too soon comes the signal to surface.  Intermittently pushing the button that inflates my airbag, I  ascend slowly toward the sunlight shimmering above. A last look at the wonderful world below.  Farewell for today, but not goodbye for I will return.

Boogie boarding, surfboarding and kite surfing?  Situated on the south coast only minutes from Grantley Adams International Airport, Club Mistral’s Silver Sands resort is known world-wide by surfers for its ideal wave conditions. Novices through wave-freaks enjoy near perfect conditions that encourage unlimited creativity. 

Horizon hugging beaches of  golden sand, clear turquoise water, ideal day long wind and wave conditions, comfortable accommodations and pulsating night life.  Surely all the ingredients for the perfect surfing vacation. 

At this point, I would like to have told you about my experience learning to kite surf or boogie board.  However, even allowing the most lenient editorial license, I cannot claim that my attempts at board riding caught the eye of even one of the many professional photographers who daily take ownership of a rocky headland overlooking the action below. 

Eyes carefully scanning the surfers, fingers on shutter-buttons behind their tripod-supported giant zoom-lensed cameras, they wait patiently for the next cover of an international surfing magazine.

It’s true that during initial instruction I was told my stance on the kite board was near perfect……until came the instruction, “now try it in the water.” At which point an observant waiter suggested I make a graceful retreat to a waiting poolside table and cooling drink.  Suggestion gladly accepted!

Another early awakening to ocean front breakfast of bacon, eggs, cool O.J., and hot coffee.  Today is day two.....or is it three?  The itinerary says, “Hike and cave adventure with Trekkers.” Sounds like a cool, relaxing day.  I enjoy hiking,  so probably a leisurely guided tour through damp rain forest, stopping along the way to look into the mouth of a cave or two?  How wrong I was!

My first forewarning came with the instruction,  “Except for swimwear, an old shirt  and runners, leave everything else…..clothing, camera equipment, money, sunglasses and watch in the jeep,” barked smiling  dread-locked Rastafarian guide, Roland.  Dressed in t-shirt, Crocodile-Dundee style short shorts and oversized hiking boots, he was obviously a no-nonsense type of fellow unlikely to show much sympathy if  one should have the gall to request a rest. 

 “Go to the back of the jeep and find a helmet that fits."  He continues, "Make  sure the battery is O.K., then check the on and off switch and low to high beam controls so you can find them in the dark!”

 Controls duly noted,  “Grab the rope and follow me  into the rain forest.  Look where you tread because we don’t want you falling into the wrong hole do we Captain,” he says, I hope jokingly.

After lowering the 50 feet of knotted rope into presumably the right hole, I watch as Roland expertly descends into the damp, mud covered coral.  “O.K. Captain,” he shouts up at me,  “now your turn. Try to keep the rope steady or you will risk getting a nasty graze when your knuckles or knees make contact with the sharp coral.” 

I descend, but obviously not carefully enough, for I later need several band aids from Roland’s portable first aid kit to cover mud and coral filled cuts.  At first relieved to have reached the ledge on which Roland was standing in relatively safely, I’m alarmed to find a further 50 foot length of rope disappearing into the ever darkening abyss. 

Once at the bottom of the hole…..I’m sure spelunkers have a more technical term than hole…..we switch on lights.  Low beam, I’m told to discourage flying “things” from splattering themselves against my face.  

Roland explains that we will be following a cave system leading toward another opening high up in the island’s interior. “Water of varying depths will be flowing through the system, but not to worry because there has been no recent heavy rainfall likely to cause flooding,” he adds matter of fact.  Oh that’s just so comforting to know, I think.

“During our exploration,” Roland’s voice now echoing as we begin to advance, “we'll enter, either by climbing up to, or lowering ourselves into a series of “rooms” or separate caverns.  Most will contain water only a few inches deep, but I’ll warn you when to expect the level to reach shoulder high. Lower yourself slowly until your feet touch the floor.” I say nothing, but think much!

More words of caution.  “We'll frequently come across stalactites.  They are the ones hanging from the cave’s roof, so watch your head.  Also, watch out not to bump into stalagmites rising from the floor.  It will be necessary for us to sometimes  crawl crab-like on all fours for a few feet until reaching more headroom.”

By now several hundred feet into the twisting cave system, all natural light has disappeared.  Low beam allows just enough light for me to visually “fix” onto Roland’s lowered back a few feet ahead.  Already, thousands of flying “thingies” are not behaving as they are supposed to behave when in low beam, for they insist on trying to push their way into my eyes, my ears and up my nose.

After about an hour of slow, slippery generally upward progress during which we encountered each of the forecasted obstacles, Roland beckons me toward a couple of flat rocks upon which we rest. Lights off, we sit for a few minutes peering into the carbon blackness. Total quiet.....interrupted only by the trickle of water and occasional sound of our flying companions.  For me, a nervously uncomfortable place, yet at the same time unusually peaceful.

Though relieved to return to the sunlight and freshness of the Barbadian rain forest, this has been a truly awesome experience.  I'll let Roland have the last word. "Tell your friends to respect the fragility of these natural wonders, and to take  out everything took  in!" 

On my last evening, I decide to join the  casually dressed crowd now gathering in the dinner hour  close to my hotel.  Strings of  colored lights aided by a light breeze twinkle in the tall overhanging trees.  Bajan street vendors fire up their portable wood-heated stoves knowing from experience the strongly spiced goat curry will quickly attract a line up of  customers.    Wooden shuttered windows of the many restaurants and cafes open to welcome diners hungry after a day in the sun.  

I choose a table on the patio of The Ship Inn facing the noisy, yet fascinating street activity.  Why we like to sit under an umbrella in the evenings I'll never know......but it feels "right." And it’s not even a Cinzano umbrella. 

Across the street, a police wagon attended by two smartly uniformed officers. Their main purpose it seems, for I've seen no evidence of "trouble" on the island since my arrival, is chatting with visitors, occasionally having their picture taken for the family album. 

Over dinner, I reflect upon the last hurried few days.   Barbados is now firmly fixed in my mind as a safe, friendly and exciting Caribbean destination.  Adventure-seeking tourists will find a wide range of activities  appealing to all ages and skill levels.   

Secluded uncrowded beaches, water sports, historic attractions and recently developed golf courses by day. At night, world-class fine dining for those wishing to relax in splendidly picturesque surroundings.  Or if preferred, exciting night life in the many outdoor cafes, clubs and ever-lively street markets.  END

                                                                           
CAUTION: The above adventures are a lot of fun, but a reasonable level of fitness and agility is required.  See your doctor first, and seek the help of  qualified guides and instructors!