Kaikoura, December 27th 2015
It's my second time in Kaikoura. Reason? To make up for the one day I missed from previous winter itinerary due to rough sea on Cook Strait which disabled me crossing from Wellington. So what did I miss? Dolphin watching.
Because on the sign up form I was asked about medical issues and I stated "low blood pressure", upon checking in at the counter, I was interrogated whether I brought medicine with me, and so forth. I answered that my doctor said my blood pressure is although low still within the normal level, thus no medication needed. I was then told that the water is very cold. In the previous time, a guest fainted due to low blood pressure. Bla, bla, bla. The receptionist said she was going to make sure with someone (I forget who) about my condition. Finally she returned and said everything was fine, I could join.
I must look super tiny in this rather tiny country. I was given a wet suit that couldn't fit my waist. I had to undress, dress up, exchange the wet suit, re-undress, put on the other buoyant wet suit. That was my English lesson for the day. Buoyant. "You can't sink, because your wet suit is buoyant," we were told.
Was I nervous? Yes, I was. In spite of my swimming ability which I was fully confident with, it would be my first time plunging into open sea in the middle of nowhere. Nevertheless, I didn't know what to be worried about.
The story continues, on board. We had two female guides. The elder one, let me name her Alice, and the younger one, Beatrix. Alice questioned my swimming history. Aye.
"I swim on a regular basis."
"Have you ever swum in the sea?"
"Yes, I have."
"Where?"
"In Lombok."
"Where's that?"
"Next to Bali."
"Oh that must be not as cold as here."
"I know it isn't."
"Indonesia is different."
"Of course it is."
"Do you use to take medicine for your low blood pressure?"
"My doctor never prescribed any."
"In the previous time our guests fainted in the water because it was too cold for them and they had low blood pressure."
She went on with her questioning to the extend that felt like a fuzz for me.
"Don't worry. I won't force myself. If I can't stand the cold, I will immediately go back on board."
#####
While the other guests were getting ready to throw themselves into Pacific Ocean, I was kept on board with three other guests who have never snorkeled before.
"Can I go in now?"
"No. Wait." Alice looked stern.
The swimmers drifted further apart from our boat.
"Can I now?"
"No. Not yet."
Till this minute I don't understand what had been Alice's reason keeping me on hold.
#####
"You can go now." Finally.
Just me, sat on the steps, slid down... boom. Woosh! Woosh! With all my might I swam my best towards the group of honored guests who had plunged in, in advance. However. Woosh! Woosh! They seemed much further apart than they seemed to be from board. Woosh! Woosh! Now I know what I should have been worried of. High tides. Now I know also, to be able to swim and to be able to swim in buoyant wet suite can be a totally different thing. Becoming buoyant is becoming like a ship. So heavy, that even the highest tide cannot drown you down. So heavy, that even the hardest kick cannot bring you across the waves. Becoming buoyant is becoming unbeatable -- from outside and from inside. Woosh! Woosh!
I raised my fist up, signaling the sign of returning on board. Did I feel cold? Not the least.
"That's why you need to be a confident swimmer!" That's Alice again. "It's different from Indonesia, isn't it!?"
I wanted to just sit on the steps, but Alice didn't allow me. I moved up one step higher, she raised her voice.
I pulled off my fins, threw them on the floor, and stripped off my wet suit. I was disappointed because of the situation I failed to be prepared for. Instead of emphasizing on 'cold water' over and over, these people should have stressed on 'high tides', 'strong waves'.
But the story has not yet been told.
#####
Click, click... It's not moving. Click, click... That piece of metal stayed firm on its place. Buoyant. Sort of. Aye.
How I wish I had my cellphone with me. I could have taken a picture of this handle poorly attached on a piece of wood. Apparently the door and door frame didn't match and instead of repairing the door frame, they have added a piece of wood in between of the door and the handle, so that the handle could click.
Bang! Bang! I hit the door. Woosh! Woosh! I could hear the waves smashing on our boat. Bang! Banggg! I hit harder. "I cannot open the door!" Bang, banggg!
Through the keyhole I could see Beatrix coming. Through the keyhole I described the position of the metal piece under the door handle that had caused the metal bar between the door and door frame stuck.
My body swung from the wall to the sink to the wall to the sink. Then the white sink started to be fading away. Oh, no. It's getting dark.
"Stupid. Turn on the light!" scolded the other me, somewhat like Alice's tone of voice. Aye.
Click. Light on. Ah. It's much better. Beatrix called from outside. Maybe she wanted to make sure I was still buoyant. Aye.
"We are looking for help. Please be patient. We are doing our best."
There's a common joke of Indonesians made by Indonesians. No matter what kind of misfortune, Indonesians always say, "Luckily bla bla bla." Indonesians are different, aren't they!? Aha.
I said to myself, "Luckily this is not a Chinese toilet. Otherwise... ah, you know-lah."
After approximately half an hour, my boat managed to find a fisherman out of this Pacific Ocean, who had some tools in his boat. Pull... pullllll.... creakkkk.... Fresh air!
"This thing, here, see, it gets stuck. It cannot... " I wanted to demonstrate the broken mechanism of the door lock, before Alice would tell me New Zealand locks are different from Indonesian locks.
But Beatrix didn't let me finish my sentence. "No, no, it's not your fault!"
Me to Alice: "Luckily I am brave! Otherwise I would have fainted!"
"Otherwise what?"
"Otherwise I would have fainted!"
"Did you faint?"
"No! I didn't!"
Then came Alice again. "Would you like some soup? Or water?"
"Do you have soup?"
"Yes. Chicken soup."
"Yes, please. Thank you."
Sitting inside the cabin, I struggled to keep my cup of hot chicken soup steady. It seemed that the waves of Pacific Ocean had turn all her might as to knock that damn toilet door off. And that chicken soup, was damn tasty!
I saw dolphins flipping into the air, doing their famous salto -- repeatedly. I saw albatrosses floating on the waves -- buoyant. I missed my 7D -- badly. I thought I was going to swim, so left it at the hostel.
"Luckily you didn't bring your camera with you," said the other me. "Otherwise you would damage it instead." True were the waves splashing so high that it flooded the deck of our boat, again and again. If the waves can flood the deck, the definitely can bathe my camera -- with salt water. Ah, luckily.
To my great amazement, when the swimmers of honor got on board, their appearances were sad. If this were a movie, the audience would get confuse who had actually been locked up for over half an hour inside a tiny toilet. As advised during the introduction on land, they picked up a bucket of their favorite color... and threw up. Oh. I thought those who are so strong, being able to buoyant against the waves, would not turn dizzy just being on board. Some wrapped themselves under a blanket with the bucket on their lap.
Leaning on the cabin door, I chatted with Beatrix -- about Indonesia. She had dived into the seas of Indonesia. She named the colorful beauties she encountered on Indonesian seabed -- with excitement.
At the end of the trip, I was one among the very few who didn't get seasick at all. Indonesians are different, you know. We are buoyant. Aye.
After the toilet incident, Alice never spoke to me again. Every time she had something to say to me, she would pull Beatrix aside, whisper to her, and then Beatrix would tell me. And the best thing Alice could tell me was: I got a 100% refund!!
[The other swimmers got a half refund.]
