GALAPAGOS Trip 2019
What is the most dangerous activity you would do on vacation? When I received basic snorkeling gear on a class trip to the Galápagos Islands, I hadn’t realized what was in store. I was about to go through a pivotal moment in my teenage years, during the time where I was deciding what I wanted to pursue in life. This event conveys the experience of my first tourism journey that inspired me to continue to travel. By participating in this activity and experiencing it with my peers, I had a revelation about what travel means to me- despite its dangers and complications it brings me so much joy.
In 2019, I went on a class trip to the Galápagos Islands with my high school peers. There were about 15 girls and 5 boys as well as faculty members with us. I was the only Sophomore on the trip while everyone else was Juniors or Seniors. All of the students were excited about the trip and activities we were doing, including snorkeling. My personality at this point in my life was energetic and unaware. I say this because I was excited to do anything we had planned, but my lack of situational awareness led me to this conflict. I would describe my peers' personalities as laid back and confident, as well as excited and unaware like me. I was (and still am) 5 feet tall with not a lot of muscle. I don’t believe anyone else was extremely strong or excellent swimmers either.
I could taste water in my mouth mixed with warm air in my lungs, feeling it flow around me. I was protected by my puffy lifevest that absorbed my upper body to the point where I had little control of it. I could see seals by my feet and other students bobbing up and down in the water like buoys. I could hear muffled conversations on the shore, and laughing in the water. The sky was sunny, and everyone was excited to swim in the Pacific Ocean; the trip was going well overall. This soon developed from a happy Island vibe, to an eerie calm, and a sense of fear and a realization settled in.
We were given our snorkeling gear and life vests and told not to drop them in the ocean under any circumstances. We went out to swim with no sense of the tide going in, water currents, or rules regarding when we should stop swimming out. The faculty members that came with us were not given specific regulations regarding where we can and can’t swim. The snorkeling company also didn’t tell us about potential dangers of the water currents or how to escape them. A majority of students began snorkeling and swimming out to where the seals were. The sight of the animals swimming around us was surreal, and we all had large smiles on our faces.
We suddenly realized that the people we knew on the shore were much smaller than when we started. They were waving their arms and we could hear them yelling for us to come back. The current had pulled us out farther than we expected, and swimming back against the pull was almost impossible after an hour of being out. I could feel my body getting more tired as I kept swimming diagonally back to shore. I dropped the extra weight of the snorkeling gear as everyone else did, and the life vest that held me up simultaneously made it more difficult to swim correctly. I was sweating in the warm clear water, and the cheers of happiness faded into screams from shore and wails from the opposing ocean goers. It felt as though I was swimming through thick maple syrup in a dream, going nowhere at all.
The feeling of panic set on slowly as we continued attempts to swim back. We were communicating with each other and figuring out if help was coming, because we realized we couldn’t make it back without assistance. As we became increasingly tired, frustration and tears were present on multiple faces on land and in the water. The local coast guard was called, and jet skis soon appeared. Some locals also became aware of the situation, and swam over on surf boards to assist us. I was transported to safety while hanging onto a local man’s ankle while he paddled back to shore. I was one of the last people to make it back.
My knees welcomed the large jagged rocks on the shore, as my legs were barely able to walk me to the group. I could see girls huddled together crying, and some individuals throwing up. The boys were all together as well, sitting on the sand exhausted. The faculty members looked upset at not only the situation, but the circumstances under which we ended up there. They refused to settle the debt for the lost snorkeling gear as a protest of the traumatizing event. Something that really struck me was an absence of fear or sadness while looking at my peers. I could sympathize with them- but the feelings I felt the most was adrenaline and excitement. Any fear that I had was dismissed by the feeling of adventure and the rush of the unfortunate situation. I was the only girl besides the teacher that wasn’t in tears- even laughing at the situation.
The faculty was required to contact our parents about what happened, but I had already excitedly called my mom to give her the news. The story flooded the school upon our return, and our group is now a lesson in future endeavors regarding swimming in a foreign ocean. This experience was both an anecdote for my peers as a cautionary tale, and a traumatic experience that they avoided to rekindle. For me, this experience sparked something in me about travel that I wanted to continue throughout my life. I wanted to continue adventures like this, no matter how scary they might be at the moment. I realized my cool head can be useful in a career of traveling, and stories like this can be shared with others to inspire them to travel and experience new things that might be out of their comfort zone.
