It’s Ok Guys I Can Swim

After lunch, the small tour boat dropped us along the south-western shore. We wandered along the coastline, seeking a village that hadn’t changed much in the last 200 years. The small population of the settlement lived in natural fibre huts, cooked over open fires, and wove baskets that were used for everything – storing food, clothing, carrying babies, tipped upside down to serve as tables and chairs. Seashells were also multi-purpose – dishes, cups, jewellery, decoration. Reaching the village was an obstacle course for those on feet. For someone using a wheelchair it seemed impossible but my friend Bill and two other willing travellers lifted me and my chair over ancient stone walls, waded in the sea when the beach disappeared, through thick jungle foliage, across rocky and sandy beaches until we reached the village. The local grandmas invited us to share their midday meal of cucumber-like vegetables, tomatoes, whole garlic cloves, and fresh warm bread from the stone oven perched over the open fire. We were privileged and honoured by the generosity of the villagers. In exchange, we purchased their unique handicrafts. Late in the afternoon, the thought of returning to the boat over the same intimidating pathway was overwhelming.

“It’s ok guys,” I told them.  “I will swim.”

Swimming is sometimes the easiest form of transportation. I will get my exercise; the guys would have a much easier time walking back to the boat. It would be quicker and I would have the reward of sitting on the deck, and drying off in the sunshine.

“Do you have a swimsuit?” Bill asked.
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I did not so I discarded my t-shirt and shorts slipping into the water in my bra and panties. “Just remember that when I reach the ladder at the boat, I will need a hand up and please have my clothes ready. Don’t forget to warn the crew that I am coming so they don’t leave without me.”

Pacing myself, I swam steadily, knowing that the walkers would reach the boat before I did. As I stroked through the warm water, from time to time I noticed tiny colorful fish swimming alongside me. Their friendly presence encouraged me along the way. When the rusty hull came into view I searched for the ladder. I reached up for the first rung and lifted myself hand over hand, calling out, “I’m here!”

Two crew members leaned over the side and pulled me on board. Bill was standing at the ready with my shirt.