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For as long as I could remember, I was not comfortable around water. After two incidences involving water and near drowning (the real term), I was fed up with water such as swimming pools, but sea water more than anything.

When Doug and I went to Hawaii for vacation in 2003, he convinced me that we could go snorkeling and have a good time. We went to Wal-Mart on the big island of Hawai'i and bought masks, snorkels, and fins for about $20 per set. Doug spent hours in the salt water pool trying to JUST get my face in the water. It took quite a while and toward the end of the vacation, I agreed that I would try it out in the open water.

The condo where we were staying (Kona by the Sea) was near a park that offered a reef area that was available to snorkelers and it was shallow. That sounded absolutely perfect for my first time. For my initial time in the water, it was a little scary, but I got in the water and put my face in the water. I was able to do it! So, after that success, we decided to take a snorkel trip.

On the day of the boat trip, we made it to the mooring at the time necessary. It was a fairly large boat that had space for many divers or snorkelers. They did only one sport at a time so as not to intimidate the non-diving crowd. The great thing on the boat was the slide that you could go into the water by going to the sky bridge and sliding down, going feet first into the warm water. I passed on this as I was nervous enough. I didn't want to go into the water face or feet first and go under the water. Staying on top of the water with a good floatation device was FINE FOR ME! Which is exactly what I did and I was happy. I got to see all kinds of tropical fish, corals, and sea turtles. It was great, and I was very happy to succeed at this.

Fast forward to age 39. Mid-life crisis time for me. As the big "4"-"0"- was approaching I needed something new in my life. I didn't want a new sports car or trade in my husband for a newer, younger model, but I did need to do something. That is when I found out that Doug was already certified as an open water diver. He just couldn't find his card. So one night while searching on the internet, he found how to order a replacement card. It appeared that they would have to dig up his instructor (number 37) from a grave site to verify that Doug was certified back in 1973. It took about four weeks before the new card came in the mail. Doug still jokes that they used the diving bell when he tried to go under. But from 1973

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