My Near Drowning Incident
When I was 14 years old, I attended a karate summer camp. It was a weekend outing filled with martial arts, sleeping bags, hiking, kayaking, practical jokes and the usual campground hijinks that early teenagers engage in. And it was a weekend that I almost died.
It was the summer of 1986.
I was excited. After all, I was going to be hanging out with my martial arts pals at a camp in the woods. More than once, in the weeks leading up to summer camp, my mom had warned me to stay away from the water. She knew that I didn’t know how to swim. She was worried.
As everyone started to board the bus, she reminded me once again. Feeling a bit self conscious, I rolled my eyes and told mom not to worry and reassured her that I would stay away from the water…
As the bus pulled away, I waved to mom, dad and little sis. I had gone to camp before, and I was only going to be away for 48 hours. I started to miss my family, but within minutes I was immersed in the jokes, laughter and conversations of my friends.
The weekend was off to a great start. Games, cookouts, songs, and of course – some martial arts drills and demos. There were about 30 of us at camp, siphoned off to six kids per cabin. Our camp chaperones were our instructors. One of them had warned to beware of “ninjas” attacking at night. Of course, we knew it was just the black belts preparing an “attack” to keep things lively. We set up booby-traps and took turns at lookout – much to our “attackers” chagrin.
And so it carried on until Sunday. After a particularly long trek that afternoon, a few of my pals convinced me to jump in the canoe to go paddling on the lake. I remembered mom’s warning, but shrugged it off. We arrived at shore safely. My confidence was buoyed.
“Hey, let’s swim out to the float.” said Chuck, referring to a roughly 14 ft by 14 ft structure that was stationed 40 feet from the shore of the lake.
Plenty of adults and several kids were on the float. Everyone was laughing and having a great time. The name of the lake we were at escapes me, but I do remember that there were a lot of people there. A small section of the lake was cordoned off for the general public. It was a beautiful day. The weather was sunny but not hot. The sky was blue.
“Come on, let’s go.” said Chuck, snapping me back to reality.
I remembered my mom’s warning.
“Chuck, I can’t do this. I don’t know how to swim. My mom told me to stay away from the water.”
“Well, technically, you’re not going to swim. Just grab hold of Eric and me and we can swim you out there.” he said in his usual Southern drawl.
Of course, looking back at the whole thing, I was an idiot for even thinking this could work. But being 14 years old and vulnerable to a little peer pressure, I caved in.
“Okay. Fine. I’ll hold onto your backs.”
The first 20 feet or so weren’t too bad, but that was because a portion of the lake had been converted into a pool, with a concrete basin running under my feet. Chuck and Eric were holding me aloft. And then I remember when we swam past the basin. I couldn’t feel any surface under my feet. And then Eric started to wane. I dipped to one side and instinctively panicked.
It was terrifying.
I was sinking. I clutched even harder onto Eric, literally trying to “climb up” while pushing him down. I remember yelling for help. Once. Twice. I remember people looking at me. I remember them going back to what they were doing.
And then I went under.
I could see the sunlight penetrating the green of the water. I was looking up. Shimmering reflections of feet splashing around. The sounds of laughter trailing off. The light against the water shimmered like flickering crystals. Water was filling my lungs.
I was going to die.
The next thing I knew, I felt a hand grabbing me. It was a life-guard. He brought me back to shore. I spat out water thanks to his resuscitation efforts. I coughed. I remember weakly looking up and saying “Thank you for saving my life.”
I sat on the sand by the beach with Chuck and Eric. They gave me the whole play-by-play. I remember apologizing for panicking. Then, at some point, I tuned everyone out.
I remember clutching my towel, putting on my flip-flops and slowly walking back to our cabin. I felt the cool breeze against my face and the warmth of the sun on my back. And then I noticed some familiar faces.
It was my family. Mom, Dad, and sis.
“See, I told you he’s fine.” dad said after seeing me walk towards them down the hill – not knowing what had happened only a mere hour earlier. “Your mother insisted we come out to check on you. She was feeling really restless an hour ago and kept badgering me to drive up to the camp to check on you.” Mom told me she couldn’t rest. She had a feeling, a premonition, that something bad had happened to me.
I told them what happened.
They were stunned. Mom hugged me. I hugged back. I was glad to be alive.
For several years after my near-drowning incident I avoided water altogether. Eventually I overcame my fear of drowning and enrolled in a swimming class at college. I learned how to hold my breath, float and swim. As we move towards Memorial Day weekend in the states, please be safe. Keep your eyes peeled and please remember this: drowning doesn’t look like drowning.
-Krishna
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