Sixty-Five vs. twenty Five

Being 65 is not the same as being 25. This was brought home to me forcefully on my recent trip to Hawaii. When I was 25, nothing could keep me from snorkeling to the point of sunburn. This time I bought a UV protective shirt to wear. However, it didn't turn out quite the same.

I first noticed the change when I went snorkeling on Kauai, in the "kids lagoon" at Lydgate State Park. I was fine in the water, but the sand going in was very loose and I just about fell in instead of striding purposefully into the surf. Swimming was great, with a few fish to see, but not a really fine display.

Then I tried to get out. First, I would like to say that buoyancy is good. I'm ok with being, shall we say, a lot more buoyant now. However, out of the water that often means heavier. And more clumsy. And easily knocked down by the waves.

While I was discovering this, my friend (similar age to mine) was taking my picture. We had a few laughs over it. Ha, ha.

The next place we went to, the goal was swimming with sea turtles. They were supposed to be all over this beach in Maui. Turtle Town, the locals called it.

Well, it was hot, and I was a little grouchy. Still, sitting under a convenient tree, I was shaded and enjoyed taking photos of my friend in the surf. She did a repetition of my earlier performance, rolling around involuntarily, except the waves here were really crashing.
                   
I took a turn and managed to keep on my feet with the aid of my friend's walking stick. We both saw one turtle stick its head and flipper out of the water, but we decided against joining
him for a swim.
Having learned some of our current limitations, we had one more try, at a nice beach with a reef between us and the real waves. We took turns sitting in the water and watching the (no doubt 25 year old) wind surfers beyond us. More great pictures of each of us walking into the surf, falling over, and then just enjoying the view.

A few days later we were sitting on our balcony (I mean, our lanai) watching swimmers and snorkelers below us on the beach. We both felt ok about just watching this time.

We noticed two ladies who had been swimming coming out of the water. One jumped up and ran up the sands to the grass and her towel. The other, alas, was shaped more like myself and my friend. We watched with sympathy and restrained glee as she tried to get to her feet in that soft sand. Nope! Down she went. Again, but the wave knocked her over.

After several tries, about a good 5 minutes' worth, she finally made it up and to her towel under the trees.

My friend and I sent her silent good wishes and congratulations. Maybe we can beat her time on the next trip.