Brrr! I shivered as I pulled on my sopping wet wetsuit. The cold, salty air nipped at my feet as I walked across the gritty floored dive deck to grab a pair of booties. As I passed the water barrels, I slipped and caught a mouthful of sand and soapy water. I spit up the unfortunate mixture into the sand and continued towards the benches. My booties, size 8, weren’t fitting. I stared at my monstrous feet, willing them to shrink. I was too embarrassed to get size 9, so I asked my snorkeling buddy, Alyssa to get them for me. She let out an awkward laugh and grabbed my current booties. I grinned and turned towards my camera, an underwater digital camera, that I had no idea how to work. Alyssa returned, clutching the immense booties. I shrugged and began to yank them on. Excitement began to build in my body, as I began to think “my first snorkel!” I walked back to boxes of fins, selecting the one that went with size 9s. I hurried back as Amanda, my instructor, called out in a booming voice, “Five minutes!” The entire group seemed to be in a frenzy as we collected our masks and cameras. We got out onto sand. Already we could hear the calls of the gull. On the count of three, we would grab everything, run into the water backwards, and flip onto our stomachs. One, I slipped the rubber strap of my camera onto my wrist. Two, I delicately tucked my booties under my pants. Three, I stuck my ankle through the old straps. My mask was on, but since I didn’t know how to insert my snorkel in my mouth, I avoided the detail and ran into the water. I choked on a gulp of sea water; my mouth was still recovering from the sand and soap incident though, and I twiddled with my snorkel, and found a way breathe. Amanda gave us a few minutes to recover from the gulps of sea water, and we started off. The cloudy water strained my eyes, although after much frustration, I discovered how to take pictures with my camera. Kelp bass roamed around the sea floor, and after a little while, I gave up on taking pictures and enjoyed the light, drifting feeling that snorkeling gave me. After a few minutes of this serene swim, my booties began to fill with frozen water and my snorkel became clogged with water. Gagging, retching, flailing, and pouring out water from booties ensued, not just by me, but by others in my group. Kelp bass were the only fish we saw, disappointing first time snorkelers (such as myself). The cloudy water was even worse, and by the end, many had begun to turn purple. Amanda promised we would end in a few minutes, a few chattering teeth agreed that this would be a good idea, and we swam to a nearby boat. After some confusing, marine biology conversation, be caught on that we would get to see a bat ray. I pointed my camera out of the water, but the ray was so fast that it appeared as a spotted blur (much to my disappointment). We swam to shore, where I struggled with getting onto shore. A bemused group watched me as I was washed back into the water. I threw my fins onto shore and clawed my way onto the damp, sandy shore, where I got my third disgusting mouthful. I had almost made it when I was swept back, my mouth collecting rocks, sand, water, and the plastic of my camera. I let my mouth open wide, gaping, as stones flowed out. My camera had disappeared! Amanda called out to another instructor, Lorinda, who gave me back my camera. A sigh of relief flushed my worry down to the depths of my mind. Amanda shouted, “Remember tonight’s program is the Astronomy hike!” I felt some kind of telepathic groan echo through my group, and yet, I felt there was some kind of excitement behind it. We walked back to the dorms, moaning, groaning, but grinning ear to ear.