When we were planning our Epic Vacation, Feller was all, “LOTS OF DIVING WHOOO!” And I was all, “NOT THAT MUCH MONEY HOORAY”, and so we decided to spend just one or two days diving, including a dive at the Two Oceans Aquarium, about which I was a little apprehensive, but I figured they wouldn’t let people do it if they DIED. In hindsight, it’s interesting that I was worried about diving in the aquarium but TOTALLY chilled out about diving in the ocean. The cold, murky ocean, not the warm, crystal clear ocean of Hawaii.

Feller sets up our dives with a shop that’s been recommended to us, and he’s all, “TOMORROW, WE DIVE.” So there wasn’t a whole lot of time to think about the things I might need for this boat dive, namely Dramamine and ginger. This bitch gets seasick like whoa.

So we wake up the next day, and Mum makes us a delicious, filling breakfast, which was awesome, and we head to the shop to get geared up. Now, I don’t know how many of y’all have ever worn a wetsuit, but that shit is HARD to get into, which is sort of the point, I know, but they just don’t have enough give in them for my kickin’ curves, so not only do I have to tell strangers how much I weigh, I then have to say “Actually, yeah, this wetsuit doesn’t fit. I need a bigger one.” Which isn’t embarrassing AT ALL. To make matters even worse this time around, the water in Cape Town is cold, which means, thick ass wetsuits, or in our case, two wetsuits each, and hoods.

Now, I have a Thing about shit around my neck. I don’t like it. Most t-shirts really bother me, and I end up spending the entire day tugging the collar away from my neck. Unfortunately, wet suit hoods are DESIGNED to snuggle up on your neck and keep too much cold water from getting in your suit. I actually discovered during the pool portion of my scuba class how much that bothered me, and I was able to rent a larger sized hood for our ocean dives. This time, however, the hoods were built in.

So we get all geared up and head out to the teeny, tiny, inflatable boat. And I was fine, if a bit uncomfortable, until the guy slowed the boat down and started circling our dive spot and got us all set up. That’s when the nausea kicked in. Then it was time to put the hood up. So I’m nauseous, I’ve got Shit Around My Neck, two wetsuits on, and about 10 kilos of weight so I fucking sink when I get in the water, and then the guy tells us we’re flipping over backwards to get into the water, which…is not something I’ve ever done. It wasn’t even TALKED ABOUT in my certification class! Once we’re in the water, I’m still PRETTY uncomfortable, but now I’m also disoriented, and I discover I’ve forgotten something Very Important.

In Hawaii, the boat dives were full service. They put our gear together, they helped us into our shit, they made it as easy as fucking possible for us. In Cape Town, they practically just threw us in the ocean, without a reminder to inflate our BCD’s, which ensure that we don’t sink until we want to, and having not dived in several months, I TOTALLY blanked on this fairly crucial step. AND THEN the button that inflates the vest is RED. I don’t know what red means, where y’all come from, but here in AMERICA, red means STOP! CAUTION! GO NO FURTHER!, so it didn’t even OCCUR to me to try pushing the red button. So now I’m sinking on top of everything else. And panicking. And basically acting like this is the first time I’ve ever done this, and causing Feller to lose HIS shit because I’M NOT OKAY.

The boat guy hauls me out of the water, I throw up the lovely breakfast I’d eaten, we tow Feller back to the dive location, since the water’s super choppy and we’ve drifted quite a bit, and then he’s all, “Actually….NO.” So we’re both sitting there pathetically while everyone else is having a nice dive, and Feller looks at me and says, “Um, how about we don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

Don’t worry, baby, it’s our little secret.