I wasn’t born on the mainland England. Although I am British, I was born in Jersey. Jersey is a tiny island just off the south coast of England. Its 5 miles long and 9 miles wide with one airport and one main hospital. But to me this isn’t any old island, its home.
My Ma and I moved away from Jersey when I was 6 and moved nearer to my grandparents and family but we still went back atleast once a year to see my dad and his side of the family. One of my earliest memories on the island is of when Ma used to take me snorkelling most days after school around Greve de Lecq bay and seeing all the different types of fish through the crystal clear water. I was a chubby little water baby, the kind where you say “ooo I just want to pinch your cheeks”. Don’t deny it we’ve all said that once.
There’s so much to do on such a small island. I took a trip out last October to go visit my family by myself. Most of my family were out working all day so a lot of the time I had to explore and relive old memories.
I almost died. Almost.
So as I’m quite a spontaneous person I found an adventuring website for jersey where they did coasteering, kayaking and cliff jumping. Now I rang them up on a Friday hoping to do something on the Saturday (unorganised as ever) and luckily they had a space for sea kayaking and cliff jumping going out. All I got told was to bring a wetsuit, suitable shoes and yourself to St Brelades Bay. I brought my red converse, my older cousins wetsuit who is smaller than me and myself who was 15 minutes late. Prepared? Never.
It started out all lovely floating along the sea, going round in circles (not on purpose) and realising my arms contain no muscles what-so-ever. After an hour we dragged our kayaks onto the rocks and stood around a lagoon. This lagoon had an arch which you could swim through when the tide went out then go back into the lagoon when it dragged you back in. Now for a thrill seeker like me I was buzzing. So we jumped in and were all messing around swimming out and back in through the arch, then the tide started to get pretty strong. Our tour guide told us this is the first time he’s been able to go here all year because its been too dangerous, oh wow thank you for informing me of this when we’re all getting dragged about like hopeless fish in a current. We were also told not to go into the corner where you could get dragged under.
As I was standing on the rock platform with everyone else my converse betrayed me. Did you know they’re not as gripping as wet shoes? This was due to the biggest wash coming in with a ridiculously strong current dragging it all back out, as well as me. I got dragged into the forbidden corner and got sucked into the cracks of the rock and whilst I was squirming to get un-stuck ANOTHER big wash came back and over my head. In this moment I thought this is it, i’m a gonner, but I love life why does this crap end up happening to me.
Next thing I know I feel 2 giant hands on me pulling me out from under the water and back to the rock where I proceed to choke my lungs up. My tour guide had saved me then says “thought we’d lost you then”. Yep. Thought I was lost too actually. But I just laughed it off and pretended like it was all part of the fun to not be a dramatic human.
As soon as I got back to my Auntie’s I told messaged my best friend saying “I almost died”, there was a good reaction out of that but a poorly executed message on my behalf. I did explain to her what happened and I don’t think I’ve even told my Ma fully what happened in case she decides to never let me out the house again. So she’ll have fun reading this.
Even though this near death experience will stick with my memories in Jersey forever, i’ll never forget all the other things this island has to offer. On such a small place they’ve even managed to have a zoo. If you ever want a get away trip around England i’d say Jersey is a must place to visit. It’s so easy to get over there and not too expensive either.
I’ll always love this little island called home.