One thing I should start with….
Sri Lanka has thus far been incredible. It’s an entirely different world and cultural set up. Temples and wildlife litter the streets like vape shops and tanning boutiques do the in the UK.
As a single woman traveling with her teenage daughter I’ve felt welcomed, safe and respected night and day.
But…:.
This is my second near death experience tale.
Today, we headed to Pigeon Island.
Pigeon Island is a premier marine sanctuary located just 1 km off the coast of Nilaveli, Sri Lanka. Famous for its vibrant coral reefs, blacktip reef sharks, and sea turtles.
We do like a turtle, Libby and I so were excited for this adventure.
We also chose to ignore the comment about sharks….
Cos no one would sent tourists out into shark infested waters would they?
Pigeon Island is indeed stunning, an oasis on the Ocean with a beach made up of sand and broken coral. Boats speed you over from the main land and then leave you equipped with a snorkel and fins…
I should let you know at this point; we didn’t see any turtles.
The wind was demonic today, despite high thirties temperatures. It whipped around the Island like a furious woman, provoking the sea into blustering waves.
As we headed into the waters, masks on and mouths around our breathing apparatus even I thought – is this a good idea?
But once submerged the wind died away, and the waves whilst jostling and fiery, lost their fury and we could see glorious reef and fish after fish after fish.
The current was strong, and after a while my daughter headed back for a rest; giving me a prize opportunity to swim out a little further.
I reached the part of the ocean which Nemo (for all you Disney fans) referred to as The Deep. The Coral Reef was just behind me and the waters seems to still a little.
Fish still flickered in front of my eyes, and I internally whooped each time I saw a new species.
Until…..
I kicked on, and then instantly realised googling Blacktip reef sharks would have possibly been a good idea.
But I had no need to now as a six foot version of one was literally a foot below me.
I have watched every Shark film that has been aired, even the really shite ones, and without exception – the sharks never come off well.
So my instant reaction was….
Im going to die….
Instantly panic overwhelmed me, the snorkel fell out of my mouth; I inhaled a mouthful of sea water, launched myself towards shore, ripped my ass on a piece of coral as I reached a new speed of swimming not seen since I went for my 25 metre badge:
Turned out, the shark was pretty harmless but my own stupidity was going to get me killed…
Gulping for air, I twirled around in the sea as if a shark had removed my limbs.
Then I swam in a drama of my own making….
You’ll be pleased to know I made it back to shore.
Pride gone, arse ripped, snorkel filled with water…..
Or as I like to call it – a survivor: