Learning to Breathe Underwater in Bonaire

At 58, I had never snorkeled. I had always been afraid of the water — not swimming, which I could do, but the idea of putting my face under and breathing. My daughter, who has been diving for years, signed me up for a beginner course in Bonaire and told me I would thank her later. She was right.

Bonaire is a diver's island. The reef begins just steps from the shore — you literally walk in from the beach and the coral starts. Our instructor, a patient young woman named Lisette, spent the first morning in the pool teaching me to trust the regulator. By afternoon we were in the sea.

The first time I descended below the surface and the world went quiet, I understood what my daughter had been trying to explain for years. The reef was alive in a way I had no framework for — parrotfish grazing on coral, a sea turtle gliding past without a glance, a school of blue tang moving as one organism through the water.

By day four I was doing shore dives on my own, following the reef wall down to twenty feet and back up again. I saw a spotted eagle ray on the last morning — a creature so elegant it seemed impossible. I surfaced laughing.

I am already booked to return next spring. My daughter is coming with me this time. Some gifts take a while to unwrap.