Blog #5: A Scary Experience

Write about a scary experience that you have had.  What happened?  Why were you scared?  How (if at all) did the experience change you?

Your blog post should be at least 2-3 paragraphs in length and is due along with two comments by Monday, March 10 at 5:00 p.m.

Example Response (long):

I have never felt more scared than the time that I almost drowned while vacationing in Costa Rica.  My friend, Francine, and I had just arrived in the country the day before, and she wanted to go surfing.  We rented a surfboard and a boogie board, tossed our towels on the deserted beach and jumped in the water.  It was hard to catch any waves because they kept crashing into us one after another, so we barely had time to catch our breath before the next wave hit.  They were coming in sets of three, and I figured that if I could get out past the last wave, I wouldn't have to worry about getting hit by any more waves.  So I ducked and dived under many waves and got slammed in the face by others before I finally made it out to calmer waters.

I am not a strong swimmer, but I took swimming lessons when I was young, and I have always felt comfortable in the ocean.  I am not afraid to go where my feet don't touch.  But what I didn't know was that Costa Rica has very strong rip currents, which cause many drowning deaths every year.  Crocodiles also lurk in the waters where rivers meet the ocean and have been known to attack people.  And there are no lifeguards.

I was drifting farther and farther away from the beach and Francine.  I could see that she was getting pummeled by waves and struggling to make it back to shore, too.  I tried my hardest to paddle back in, and I made it past the first set of waves, which were crashing on top of me again, but I could barely catch my breath before another one hit.  I found myself swimming against the current but going nowhere.  Francine was still struggling ahead of me, but her chances of survival were better because she was closer to shore.  I waved my arm to signal that I needed help, but she didn't seem to notice because she was trying to save herself.  The only other person I could see was a surfer far off in the distance.  I thought that I might get too tired and drown before I could make it back to shore.  I did not want to die this way.

Then Francine gave me hope:  she actually made it back to shore.  I was exhausted, but at least I knew that it was possible.  I spent several more minutes paddling and going under waves and gasping for air before I finally dragged myself back to our towels on the beach.  It hurt to breathe.  I spent several minutes catching my breath, and the adrenaline rush started to wear off.  I had never been so tired.

I learned that the forces of nature are no match for man, and now I have a healthy fear of the ocean.  I am much more cautious when I go in the water, and I always check to see which direction the currents are pulling so that I can go with them instead of swimming against them.  But occasionally I still go out to where my feet don't touch.  (Just not in Costa Rica.)