Page 19 of Here You Are

We had committed to trying the activities and going on excursions, so we had more memories of our trip than just reading on the beach. Our first excursion was a catamaran trip to a nearby island. The schedule was snorkeling, swimming with a shark, shopping on the island, and a booze cruise back. We started with snorkeling, which I thought I would love.

Once we got our snorkels and fins on, we plopped into the water. I put my face down in the water and was immediately shrieking. “Oh my god, there are so many fish. Gross! Why are they so close to our bodies? I thought they would be down in their little habitats, not swimming right by us. Eeek! Help! I can feel the disruption of the water below me from the flow of the fish.”

“Cass, we are literally in the ocean, and you're surprised there are fish in the water? That is the whole point.” She submerges and starts floating around while I keep my head out of the water, trying to float as much on top of the surface as humanly possible, where I feel safe away from the two-inch fish that are terrorizing me. She pops up and looks over at me, spitting out her snorkel. “Oh, my god, there is a stingray down here! Come look!”

“Oh, hell no. I’m going back to the boat, where it is safe.”

I return to the boat and strip off my snorkeling accessories. I join the other chickenshits on the boat who are also afraid of fish. I planned to move forward, enjoying the water in a way where I don’t know what is under the surface. That seemed safest. There are a few local men working on the boat. All of them are young and ripped, with perfect brown skin and white smiles. They are flirting with everyone on their boat like it’s their job—because it literally is. One of the boat workers makes his way over to offer me a drink.

“Hola, Bonita. I’m Juan. Would you like a drink?” He sat down next to me with a little cooler cart.

“Sure, what do you have?”

“Cervezas y Rum Punch. I made the Rum Punch, very strong, very delicious,” he told me with a dazzling smile.

“I’ll try the rum punch. Thank you.”

“Is no problem, Bonita,” he replied. He poured me a drink and handed it to me. He continued to sit next to me while the majority of the people continued to snorkel.

“What is your name?” he asked as he put his arm around my shoulder. Shit, he smelled good. He couldn’t have been more than twenty. He looked at me and smiled as I realized I was not answering his question.

“Oh, my name is Cassie.”

“Eres muy hermosa,” he replied with a toothy grin. I watched him do an up-and-down glance of my body, as I felt a little self-conscious in my modest two-piece swimsuit.

“I don’t speak Spanish,” I said back to him, sweating a bit from the closeness and intensity of his gaze.

“Hmm,” he replied. “Maybe I'll tell you later what it means.” He gave me another appreciative glance, then got up to help some of the other people on the boat. Of course, that was the moment Cora pulled herself up the ladder and back on the boat. Her mouth was wide open, and she was jumping up and down in her fins and snorkel, looking like a total jackass.

She whisper-screamed at me, “Do the catamaran boy!” as she flopped over by me.

“Seriously? He has to be ten years younger than me, and it’s his job to flirt with the people on the boat. That’s how he gets tips. I need to keep my options open, and I don’t think he is a very good contender.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst. If you don’t engage in any type of sexual contact on this trip, I’m not coming back with you, and also, that is a lie, but please, please take your clothes off for someone.”

“It’s our second day here. I’m sure there will be other opportunities. I don’t need to take my clothes off for the first young man who looks my way. Also, can you imagine how many people these boat boys have sex with? With those bodies, the accent, the charisma? They are not low on options.”

“The boat boys would be lucky to get in your swimsuit.”

After the snorkeling adventure concluded, we took a relaxing boat ride in the warm Mexican sun over to the island. Our next stop was swimming with a shark. I had already resigned myself to the “definitely-not-happening” group of people for that part of the excursion. Of course, Cora was game for anything. We docked near the resort and noted an enclosure near the dock. In the water, we could see a big brown hump of something.

“Amigos, we are ready to swim with Clark the Shark! Line up on the dock to take your turn,” one of our tour guys shouted at the crowd to our group.

“What the hell kind of shark is that?” Cora asked as we shuffled with our herd over to the enclosure.

“It looks a little homely,” I replied.

“Shhh, what if it hears us talking shit and gets hungry?”

A local man was already inside the enclosure with the alleged shark, and everyone was standing around the dock, skeptical about entering the water. There were two things I noted about Clark: he didn’t look like any shark I had ever seen, and he didn't really look all that…alive.

The local man started to talk to the group, saying, “Is okay. Clark is an old hombre. He is on liquid diet. Look, no teeth. ¡Sin dientes!”

I looked at Cora and shrugged. “No teeth. I guess I’ll go in if you do. We can put a notch on the badass scale for swimming with a shark.”

“I’m not sure this shark counts as a shark, but I’m in.”

We both hopped in the water and swam over to Clark. The man in the water slipped Clark a little treat, and sure enough—no teeth. This shark appears to be very old, and we might be the last humans he ever comes in contact with. I wonder how they will find another old man shark to replace him with, so they can continue to advertise: “Want an exciting adventure? Come swim with the sharks.”