A while later, we rode something called the Arctic Rescue. They called it a straddle coaster. I was hesitant to do that, but the guys talked me into it. “It only goes 40 miles per hour,” Bob said. “You can be that brave.”
Timothy argued, “She can skip it if she wants.”
Forty miles an hour? Cars on the freeway go faster than that. Thinking like that seemed logical, even though I could hear the screaming and could see the way some of the riders were hanging onto the sides of the cars with whitened grips which should have told me that my initial judgement was correct, but I bowed to the pressure.
And, of course, once the thing started moving, I discovered that riding such coasters was a lot different than sitting in a car seat contained in a nice, sturdy and comfortably heavy metal frame. Coward me, I shrieked and squealed most of the way down, and when the ride ended, I had legs so shaky I could barely stand up. Never, never again. I sincerely hate roller coasters of all kinds!
Timothy’s arms around me and a few kisses for reassurance made my terror slip away. I leaned into him and forgot my moments of panic, but I did take the time to glare at Bob. He was the one who’d talked me into going on the ride. I wouldn’t be listening to him again.
Feeding the stingrays in the Bat Ray Shallows was cool. It was kind of scary if you thought about how in the wild, rays could sting, but these didn’t. They felt like smooth rubber, only wet. Not impressive. But animals in all shapes were wondrous (even the scary sharks,) and we learned more about all the amazing sea creatures as Frank continued to weave his stories and offer fascinating facts.
We ate lunch with the orcas. Luckily, our food was better than their raw fish. I had tortellini with marinara sauce and a side of roasted butternut with cranberries. I was also served a couple of tablespoons of Brussel sprouts, which was my absolute favorite vegetable. . . oh, and we got cupcakes for desserts. Of course, mine was chocolate.
Meanwhile, the orcas were putting on a show, jumping up and diving down, excited about something. They were racing around their tank, faster than an animal that weighs more than 12,000 pounds should ever be able to go, at least that’s what I thought, but obviously the orcas didn’t agree.
After stuffing ourselves, we moved into the stands of the Orca Encounter arena and saw the presentation. I guess that’s why the orcas were all agitated. They wanted a full audience to perform for.
Timothy and I were spooning together, as old folks like my grandmother used to call it. The guys sat behind us. I know they were on duty, guarding us from the evils of such folks as Mr. Peters, but I think both Terry and Bob were enjoying the day as much as Timothy and I were. Bob, though, kept talking about how much fun the Artic Rescue was. He tried to convince me that I’d enjoy it more the second time. Not a chance.