(This post is part of a series of 50+ short stories from my adventures over the years. It will be eventually assembled into a book under the same title.)

In the summer of 1994 my best friends from college (Perry, Kevin, John) and I embarked on a seven-day cruise. It was four years post-graduation and I was a newly minted Olympic medalist trying to figure out what was next and indeed, we were all finding our own way. Kevin was consulting in Michigan but pining to get back to a writer’s life, Perry was in the midst of starting a company with other Stanford grads, and John was still in graduate school getting his Ph.D. in neuroscience. We were all sharing one tiny room because we were all still poor at the time.

It was Perry’s idea to leverage a random college tradition of dressing in leisure suits for parties, and to board the ship with all of us dressed in polyester 70’s attire. We had no premonition that this would immediately make us very popular on board. Immediately we were inundated with requests to take pictures with other cruisers of all ages and demographics. Our tablemates for the dinner service were less impressed, however. Four attractive women from Louisana with accents to match gave each other eye rolls as we arrived, and then quickly asked the maître d' loudly and directly in front of us to be moved to a different table. “What are you boys wearin’?” One had asked with contempt. Later in the cruise, we were able to exact our revenge…

That evening we were the hit of the late-night party at the bar, with Perry executing his signature “Angus Young death drop” from the top of the bar after bribing the DJ to play AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long”. Again it was group picture after group picture and we stayed up until the sun was rising.

Late the next morning we ambled out to the pool in swim trunks and t-shirts and gone was our previous celebrity - in fact almost no one even recognized us. I won a trophy for a pillow fight competition where I proceeded to beat a series of hapless opponents into submission by tying knots in my pillow case to compress the bottom of the pillow into a tight ball and a chain-like flail. That evening we showed up for dinner in regular clothes and almost immediately everyone was asking, “Hey! Where are the leisure suits? We never got a picture…” It was probably Perry making the call but shortly before being served dinner, we returned to the room, changed into our leisure suits, and returned to dinner to uproarious applause. We wore them every single day for the rest of the cruise.

The next day we arrived in Ocho Rios, Jamaica, and went on an easy excursion to Dunn’s river falls. It was very touristy and crowded with people on both sides of the river climbing up to the top of the falls in long lines. I wasn’t having it and announced to the boys “I’m going right up the middle” and proceeded to climb up and through the refreshing waters up the several dozen levels of cascading falls.

However, near the top was the largest and steepest section perhaps 20 feet high. At first, as I climbed there were some outcrops with some excellent grips and footholds and I made good progress. However, the final section was nearly straight up, but I was able to hold my breath, stick my head underneath the tumult and spot hand and footholds. I made it to within perhaps 3’ of the top of the falls but could no longer find any new hand holds - it was just smooth rock… And, to my chagrin, I could no longer see or find the hand and footholds that I had used to come up. I was stuck. Worse still was that the pressure of the water was pushing me out and away from the limited handhold that I had. Compounding the equation was that I could only breathe when I leaned way back which made my tentative grips even more precarious, so I was taking turns holding my breath under the gushing of the falls and leaning back to take a breath. I quickly tired and realized that I was in a very very dangerous situation. The rocks 15’ below were jagged and completely uneven - there was no chance of not seriously injuring myself or even dying if I were to let go or jump.

After about 10 minutes of this hellish mix of drowning and vertigo, the adrenaline charged me with enough fear for me to ditch my pride and start yelling, “Help! I need help!” Immediately some members of the crowd on either side saw my predicament and began to shout up the line that help was needed. Fortunately, Perry, John and Kevin had also noticed that I was not keeping pace and were already on their way back down.

I explained that I was tiring and would fall soon and wasn’t sure what to do. They quickly sprang into action. Kevin and John wedged themselves behind a bolder near the lip of the tall cascade, and grabbed Perry by his ankles and lowered him over the lip where I could then grab both of his hands. He was nearly drowning in the process, but I found his hands and then Kevin and John dragged Perry’s body, attached to mine, up and over the lip of the falls and into safety to the cheers of all the onlookers.

After the river adventure we went down to relax at the beach. It was there we hatched a plan to gain revenge on the girls who had so summarily rejected us the first night. We managed to capture a live crab which we stowed in our bag, and upon return to the ship, we brought to the New Orleans girls’ room. Under the guise of a “we’re sorry” gift of a six-pack of beer smuggled on board we were able to gain entrance to their room. While I kept their attention with the conversation, Perry let the crab loose in their shower. We then bowed out saying our sorry’s and goodbyes, and then simply sat outside the door waiting for inevitable. Sure enough, moments later the screams that endlessly rang out sounded very much like there had been a murder and we laughed our way all the way back to our stateroom, ready for another night of leisure.

Why Am I Still Alive? Pt. 6: Climbing a Waterfall in Jamaica