Akumal, September 2001. Gary and I split a bottle of red at Turtle Bay, walked down to an empty beach under a three-quarter moon, and I dropped my clothes in the sand.
I didn't get far. Something hit my right foot, lightning quick, and I came out of the water bleeding like a stuck pig.
There was no 911 on that coast. There was Dr. Nestor, who shot me full of morphine in the butt under a parking lot light, then sewed me up in a two-room clinic at a German all-inclusive while I cussed in two languages. Sixteen stitches across the top of my foot, one more on the bottom. Nobody could tell me what did it.
It took a skull on the Discovery Channel to crack the case.
Read the whole thing here: https://stories.kaywalten.com/p/akumal-night-swim
If it made you curl your toes, a coffee helps. So does a margarita.