“It’s not a catamaran?” I looked at the speedboat and then up to Craig’s face, my hand shielding my eyes from the Cabo San Lucas sun.
“I thought we were sailing?”
“Well, I thought it would be fun to do something different. We’ll still see the whales, but have a little speed fun, too.” He knew my disappointment was morphing to annoyance.
I clenched my teeth, scolding myself for sending Craig down to the cruise excursion desk alone without specific instructions to book a whale watching sail.
“I had planned on a relaxing morning, not a thrill ride,” I pulled him down the pier for privacy as two other couples boarded the silver bullet boat. The captain, in surfer jams and t-shirt, helped his morning charter customers on board.
I don’t deal well with unfulfilled expectations. I go into near meltdown when a plan goes awry. A tantrum was building. Craig knew it was coming.
“Common, Celia. It’ll be awesome,” Craig tried to steer me back towards the captain and the others laughing as they put on life vests. “It’s us and two other couples. Just a few hours.”
I had dug my heels into the weathered dock, and Craig felt me become immovable. “It’s not much more than a fucking banana boat,” I hissed. “I don’t do fucking rafts. I don’t do speed.”
Craig dropped his head, “Fine. Let’s just go get some breakfast then.”
“No. You want to go. Get on your damn boat. Have fun,” I fumed and stormed down the pier. Craig went off on another adventure without me.
A cantina right off the harbor had an upper terrace and breakfast was being served. I made my way up, and took a seat at a high table looking down to the street and the harbor across. I had sun on my face, sea breeze and smell. “Almost like being out on a cat,” I huffed to myself. All that was missing was the hump of a big fish. And Craig.
A flier on the menu boasted Bottomless Mimosas. Perfect. I didn’t want to touch bottom, to connect. I wanted to float away from what was now changing from rage to regret. I did not want to feel the sting of that familiar fall.
I met the boat when it came back to dock later that morning. Craig disembarked, a big smile and hug for me. He had a remarkable ability to forget my falls.
“You missed a great ride, Ce! The gang wants to grab lunch. Let’s go, ok?”
“Lunch sounds great.” A concession, my typical apology, granted as I bowed to get my bag. I glanced out to the bay as I stood. A tremendous whale breached, spiraling in silver spray to reach its nose to the sun. Thrilled, I turned, “Craig, did you see?” He was walking away from me, his arm around a new friend. I looked back to see the whale’s fluke raised against the sea and sky, my own lonely adieu.