[vc_row full_height=”yes” css=”.vc_custom_1630059503287{padding-top: 150px !important;padding-bottom: 150px !important;background-image: url(https://hownottohaveamidlifecrisis.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/hans-luiggi-uvQmacxnfcE-unsplash-scaled.jpg?id=2746) !important;background-position: center !important;background-repeat: no-repeat !important;background-size: cover !important;}”][vc_column][vc_custom_heading text=”Stories from South and Central America” font_container=”tag:h1|font_size:50|text_align:center|color:%23ffffff|line_height:1.2″ use_theme_fonts=”yes” css_animation=”fadeIn”][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row css=”.vc_custom_1593975708429{margin-top: 10vh !important;}”][vc_column]

The next morning Luis, my scuba diving instructor, and I were diving in very shallow water when we heard a deafening roar which got increasingly louder. I knew it could only be one thing; a speedboat heading straight for us. Fortunately, my first reaction was to keep breathing through my regulator and to try and get down close to the sea floor. However, my buoyancy prevented me from doing this effectively, so in an instant Luis lay on top of me and flattened me. Within seconds the boat passed over with its propellers missing us by less than a foot. Luis signalled to check I was ok and we swam under water back to the shore with him clutching my hand tightly. Once on the dock he turned to me and asked if I believed in God, before looking skywards and crossing his heart. He then promptly sat on the…

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