The entire boat empties of its 20-something passengers. We have grabbed our small bags containing electronics and passports and dashed up to the dock.
The back end of the boat is indeed submerged. That is where all our luggage is. We groan as we imagine all our things ruined or just plain soaking wet. Everyone’s checking to see where their passports are.
At least nobody has fallen in. Our eyes dart back and forth, wondering if anyone is going to chicken out of the trip at this point. It would be entirely rational if they did, in my opinion. In retrospect, I should have volunteered as tribute.
After several long minutes, the boat is brought back up to surface. We’re encouraged and prodded back on, and this time, there is little enthusiasm for the trip. A subdued silence envelops us as we count the number of people on board and then the number of lifevests strung up on the boat’s ceiling. There are not enough.
While others are distracted by the large boats that may collide with and capsize us at any second, people craftily slip free a lifevest and click it on. They wear it casually, as if it was there outfit and nobody noticed it before now. Frankly, even though I’m a strong swimmer, I’m not taking any chances. I put on a lifevest and find a very lucky Ziploc back in my backpack. In goes all my electronic devices and my passport for safekeeping.
I’m not taking any changes, thankyouverymuch.