I signed up for it out of a mix of curiosity and the self-imposed pressure of doing what “normal” people do. It was about 10 years earlier that I had first thought I might give it a try, but when I got a chance to observe people for myself, my fear got the better of me and I decided against it. But now that it was our first wedding anniversary and Douglas and I were going to Puerto Rico to celebrate, I thought it was about time to cross it off my “tried it” list: snorkeling.

I have never been a strong swimmer, and  years earlier when I looked over the ledge on the road to Hana in Maui and saw a group of snorkelers surrounding their boat, I figured it was not for me. How do they swim, and who has the stamina for that? What are you even supposed to see when you snorkel? Can you honestly breathe out of a tube sticking out of the water? It sounds like a child’s invention to me.

When planning our trip to Puerto Rico, I asked Douglas if he was interested in a combination kayak and snorkel trip. He was interested in kayaking but not the snorkeling. He agreed to let me purchase the tour, though, because he subscribes to the viewpoint, “Happy wife, happy life.” I can’t blame him.

Neither of knew what we were in for, having only the vaguest idea of how snorkeling worked. Plus, I still had that nagging question, What do you even do or see when you’re out there? But whatever—we are here to try a new experience that is a tourist rite of passage!

We received a detailed briefing on the fine points of putting on a snorkel mask—the angle of the headband, properly holding the snorkel in the mouth without it becoming a binkie or chew toy, how to defog the lenses, and to stop breathing if water is going into your snorkel, like the girl on yesterday’s tour.

Snorkels in hand, fins nearby, life vests securely fastened, and we were on our way out in our kayak. The night before had actually been our first kayaking experience—in the pitch black through a tunnel of mangroves. So we felt pretty cut out for open water kayaking in the daylight. We were pumped, ready to go, closely trailing our tour guide, and way ahead of the rest of the group, who all struggled to understand the concept that pushing water backward makes you move forward. We would’ve high-fived each other but we weren’t that good at kayaking yet.

Suddenly our tour guide stopped. “This is the spot,” he said. I looked around. The beach was a distance out to my right. The open water was to my left. What spot? Where are we? And how can he tell?

We waited for the rest of our group to catch up, and when we did, we tethered our kayaks all together, “So we won’t float away,” said our guide. We were at his mercy, all of us being a bit disoriented as far as what we were doing and how we would accomplish this snorkeling thing.

We carefully put on our fins in the kayak, trying not to tip ourselves, then put on our masks as we were directed in boot camp on the beach 20 minutes earlier, then double checked our life vests were securely fastened. Our tour guide assured us it would be pretty easy to float without a life vest, but I was skeptical. I’ve never heard them say we can just float if our plane crashes, so I’m not quite buying it from him.

It was time to hop overboard, and I did with the security of knowing I wouldn’t sink like an anchor to the bottom, with my security blanket life vest on. Our tour guide began. “This is a brain coral, because it looks like a brain.” He disappeared under the water, and moments later popped back up. I was still just trying to figure out how I ended up floating in the middle of nowhere with my kayak tethered to a bunch of other newbies.

“And this is a finger coral, because it looks like fingers.” He dove under the water again, popping up a few seconds later. We were all staring back at him.

He would have facepalmed if it weren’t for the mask in his way. “Guys, you need to look under the water. Stick your head down!”

I didn’t really believe him that this would work. Everyone knows you can’t see or breathe in saltwater! But then again… I do have this gear that is supposed to change all of that. I thought, Well, he must know what he’s talking about. Just stick your head under the water. If you can breathe, just pop back up. You won’t die.

Grabbing a huge gulp of air, I reminded myself I had an easy rescue with my life vest on. And I took the plunge.

And I opened my eyes.

WOW! There was a whole city under there! And now his comments made sense. Every time he would name something and disappear, he was pointing out something below. There were corals of all shapes, sizes, and colors, fishes of all shapes, sizes, and colors, all forming a busy, thriving, happy life. So this is what I had been missing out on! And I took a breath, slowly, cautiously, determining if snorkeling was the real deal. And it was. I had officially taken my first breath of air under water.

I popped my head back up instantly. Above the surface, all I could see was waves reflecting the light from the sun. I was baffled. Was it possible I was even on the same planet anymore? Had I been transported somewhere else? There was simply no indication that a whole life force existed right underneath me.

I plunged back under water. Can confirm, am on the same planet. I’m seeing two worlds at once. I pop my head back up. Where was Douglas?! Had he seen this?! He needs to! We met each other’s wide eyes and bewildered, excited looks— yes, he had seen it, too, and he was looking to see if I had had the same experience as him. Oh yes, I did.

Like a friend you haven’t seen in years, I suddenly felt that I had a need to catch up on years of history, of stories, that I had missed out on. Here was a whole world unto itself that I had never seen with my own eyes—that appeared invisible above the water’s surface. I was mesmerized—enchanted—by the thought that there could actually be such a thing as this bustling underwater city that I was witnessing. All this scaffolding never before seen in our cities above ground. Species of fish, brightly colored, seemingly in vain as they can’t be seen from above. All of them bustling about, in all directions and all paths, just like how we imagine someday the future will look when we have flying cars. Perhaps that’s why this scene seemed to me to be impossibly juxtaposed with the earth I knew.

I felt like we spent hours out there, chasing fish, swimming past and through coral, and yet it also seemed like mere moments before we were climbing back into our kayaks. I looked back at Douglas and grinned. He shared the same with me. We knew that this had changed our lives and given us a new hobby we found we would never tire of.

Back at our hostel, we replayed over and over the experience. All of the coral and fish we saw. How it felt like two worlds. How we both had to resurface to make sure we hadn’t been transported to another planet. How we thought snorkeling sounded kinda dorky but now know it totally isn’t. How perfect the day had been.

And when we ran out of things to say, we booked another trip for the next day.