"Cocos - Island of Horrors. But I lived to tell the tale. 5:00 p.m. Saturday [sic; actually 5:00 p.m. Sunday], back aboard ship, in one piece (mostly).
"Awakened to a gorgeous tropical isle right outside my window. We had dropped anchor at 6:30 [a.m.], and the various launches were being launched and were scurrying about. Mixed clouds/sun, lots of tropical birds. Numerous frigate birds circling the ship, and lots of some white bird - probably a tern, although I haven't made a firm ID - soaring past.
"Prearrival instructions. The floating dock will be anchored in 3 to 4 feet of water. Be prepared to wade ashore in waist or chest high water. (Actually, the Bear's Tale mentioned 'waste high water.') Students are assigned to launches and must use only those boats. The Numbers 10 and 11 'fast boats' will shuttle faculty and staff ashore and back.
"Sounds simple enough. Perhaps the first omen was when I arrived on the main deck about 9, only to see a fast boat pulling away. But the fast boats zip over to the floating dock in about 2 minutes, so I figured it would be back very shortly. Wrong. For whatever reason, it tied up at the dock and stayed there. So Lee Parker and I waited around until 9:45 and went in on one of the student boats that still had a few seats.
"Second omen. 'Everyone exit the boat and move right into the water. No more than 3 or 4 on the floating dock at any one time. Be careful, it's deep.' Deep? We're all prepared to wade ashore in chest-high water, holding our stuff over our heads. I had two packages, snorkel gear in one and camera, binoculars, bird book, towel, etc. in the other. The water was over my head. Fortunately, as I was being pushed off the dock by the throngs exiting the boat, a CMA cadet who apparently didn't have anything to carry said 'I was on the water polo team' and took my heavier snorkeling package. I side-stroked with one hand trying to hold my other package (my fanny pack) out of the water until it was shallow enough to stand. Finally ashore with only minor water damage.
"Beautiful small beach, a bit of sand bordered by rocks and then the land immediately shot up a steep hillside densely covered in trees. A small but lovely waterfall was cascading down one side onto the beach. My plan was snorkel one side, then hike and bird a little, then snorkel to other side to cool off from the hike. So I donned snorkeling gear, left my stuff on a rock well above the water line, and headed in.
"It was, indeed, an excellent snorkel. Lots of coral, lots of reef fish. I school of 25 or 30 medium sized irridescent blue fish 'adopted' me for awhile and swam around me. I saw several white-tipped reef sharks, about 3 feet long, but no hammerheads. Some students reported seeing large rays. I didn't see those, but did see a large lobster lumbering over the rocks.
"As I was coming back in to the beach, I noted that the real fun had begun. Last night was a full moon. (It was, by the way, absolutely gorgeous on deck last night with the moon and clouds.) We're also coming up on the summer solstice. Combined, those make for some of the highest tides of the year. And apparently Cocos has a rather large tidal range. Waves were already lapping at where I, and most of the students, had left our gear just an hour before, well away from the water at that time. A few cadets were tossing gear up onto higher rocks, and they had just tossed mine as I came stumbling ashore. But ... not in time to prevent one of my sandels from washing out to sea.
"With the beach gone, and nothing but rocks, I couldn't go anywhere without my sandels. And gear that had been only mildly damp getting ashore was now even wetter.
"I hadn't thought of the especially high tides with the full moon until then, but the lightbulb went off (duh!) and I recognized that the highest level of rocks, with a debris line at the top, was probably where the water was heading as the tide was continuing to rise. So while cadets and students had moved to somewhat higher ground, I encouraged them to keep going higher. And did so myself.
"With only one sandel, I couldn't go anywhere. So after comtemplating my situation for awhile, I decided I could at least get in my second snorkel. Only by now there's nothing even resembling a beach. There weren't really waves, but there was a surge of water back and forth, and you had to make your way through 10 yards of big, slippery rocks, barefoot, with the surge pushing you off your feet, to make it to open water. I managed to get out relatively unscathed, had a nice second snorkel, but did get banged up a bit coming back through the rocks on my return. Nothing serious, just a couple of abrasions.
"But out of the frying pan, into the fire. Because the tide's come in so far, the floating dock is now even further offshore, perhaps 150 yards, and now the water is over our heads before getting halfway out. And we have to go through the 'mine field' of the rocks to get into the water. I don't know why they didn't pull the dock in closer and retether it. But they didn't. I
watched a group of students go out, most not being terribly successful at keeping things over their heads.
"I formulated a plan, finally, that required 3 trips back and forth. Swim out with my fanny pack, with the camera in a zip-lock bag. (At least I had foresight for a couple of those.) Swim back in. Swim out with the snorkeling gear, with the binoculars in a zip-lock stuffed between my snorkeling fins. Empty this bag. Swim back with the empty bag and the ziplock the binoculars
had been in. Put the birding book it ziplock, and it and my wet towel in the snorkeling bag. Swim out again. I waited until there was no launch tied up at the dock, figuring the guy working the dock would radio for one of the 'fast boats' for me when I had finally completed all this.
"Fortunately, one of the fast boats hanging around saw me coming out the first time, recognized me as faculty and took pity, and came part way in to meet me. Although there was one slight miscue. I had managed to get that far with my fanny pack still dry. But I was trying to hand a guy on the boat the pack while he was trying to grab my free hand. Due to miscommunication, the pack got dunked, although only briefly. After that, I implemented my plan, all three trips back and forth, but at least had the distance shaved off some by the boat being in closer. I was too pooped by then to haul myself
into the boat, so I got myself partly hoisted up on the side, the guy drug me over the edge, and I ignominiously rolled into the bottom of the boat. Whew.
"Damage report: Camera and binoculars came through fine in their bags. Birding book is wet on one side but not destroyed. Hat, extra shirt, and other gear fairly wet but no permanent damage. All now rinsed and drying, anything washable will get washed when they reopen the laundry rooms after Costa Rica. I'm banged and scraped a couple of places but will quickly mend.
"And I'm pooped. I'd come to hike and snorkel in a tropical paradise, not enter a swimming marathon. I saw nothing of the island other than this one narrow beach - although the students, who had better luck shoe-wise than me, reported that it's quite lovely. And it truly was excellent snorkeling.
"Ray of sunshine in this otherwise gloomy tale: Just as I was preparing to leave for my first desperate swim out to the dock, and had moved about 50 yards down the beach from where I had been sitting, there was my missing sandel, washed up on shore! Either that, or someone who happens to wear the same brand sandel in the same size managed to lose the opposite shoe. Whichever, I took it!
"Hope you had a better day. Onward to Costa Rica!"
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