By Gil Zeimer
(This blog is dedicated to Roberta Flack and her creative brilliance.)

When our daughter was eight, we flew from cold, foggy California to the hot, sunny Dutch Caribbean island of Aruba for a vacation. Even though it was our summer, we chose this island over 3,650 miles away because it has consistently warm 82^o F. weather year-round. Best of all, Aruba lies outside the hurricane belt, just 17 miles north of Venezuela, and has never suffered a direct hit.

Before we left, I had called Red Sail Sports to book a few days of diving. Afterwards, I was still reviewing their website and realized their corporate office was in San Francisco in the same building where I once worked, so I called to talk to the Marketing Manager to pitch possible projects.

Before I could ask, she mentioned those magic words: “Do you want to work a trade?” I seized this opportunity and in exchange for a long blog (“Watersports Paradise Found”) that I’d write when I returned, I was comped for my diving and many other activities they offered.

The diving was quite good at two different sites that were only about a half-hour boat ride away. I also took my wife and daughter on a half-day luncheon snorkeling sail, a sunset booze cruise, while Sara and I submerged in a submarine ride.

Separately, I was strapped into a parasail and lifted high above the island as a waterskiing boat rocketed through the white caps.

Snorkeling With My Baby in Baby Beach
One day, we rented a car and drove around this flat, desert-like island, in search of what the natives call “Baby Beach”. On a map, in the southeast part of Aruba, it’s called Klein Lagoen.

Tourists and local families flock here year-round because it’s a shallow, calm lagoon, protected by a coral wall, with calm waters only about 2.5 feet deep. We said it was like a giant swimming pool where everything was shallow until you got near the Atlantic Ocean near a break in the coral.

We parked our towels on the powdery white sand, strapped on our fins and masks, then waded duck-style into the 80^o F. water.

Sara was just learning to swim at that age. But because she could stand up, she didn’t even need to use water wings or a tube to splash around. She bravely pulled on her mask and snorkel, slowly leaned forward, and started to do the breaststroke as she explored what the reef had to offer.

I Heard Her Scream
Suddenly, I heard her scream through her snorkel, “I SAW A FISH! I SAW A FISH!”

When I kicked over there, I spotted a tiny Sergeant Major, maybe 3” across, swimming away. This popular fish, identifiable by its five vertical bars of black stripes on a yellow or greenish-gray background, is often seen in schools around coral reefs throughout the Caribbean. I’ve been seeing them throughout these warm waters since my first dives on Grand Cayman in 1981.

Anyway, though we’d seen dozens of fish the day before from the Atlantis Submarine,  Sara was thrilled to see her first underwater fish live. She stood there for a few minutes with the snorkel still in her mouth, grinning widely.

My wife and I were thrilled that she had that experience to instill a lifelong love of snorkeling. The next year, she joined a community swim team and competed annually through high school. Along the way, she also became a lifeguard and a swim instructor.

Today, she’s an attorney in Washington, D.C., married, and looking into getting certified for her Open Water Certificate in the Philippines on her honeymoon this fall.

And it all started with “I SAW A FISH!” in Aruba.