Cliff Jumping in Croatia
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I was at the top of a cliff, staring down at the water below, and I was too scared to jump.
We were on the island of Lokrum, just off the coast of Dubrovnik, by a small salt lake that was a popular swimming and sunbathing spot.
Sometime in the mid-afternoon a group of young men had clambered up to the top of the cliff, and took turns jumping into the water below.
Piqued by curiosity, I headed up to the top with my youngest son Zebedee, who was thirteen years old at the time. When we got to the top, we peered over the edge.
It was high.
At about eight meters, the top of the cliff felt like you were standing atop a tall building. The thought of jumping off was not appealing at all.
So we scrambled down a little lower, and took a jump from a more manageable height, about halfway up.
Even though the jump was fun, we both felt a little unsatisfied, knowing that we had chickened out.
For the rest of the afternoon, we kept looking up at the queue of young men who were jumping from the top, often to cheers and whoops from the crowd below.
Eventually Zebedee went back to the top, so I followed him. We were both a little out of place among the young guys with their bronzed bodies and six-packs. A skinny thirteen-year-old kid and his slightly flabby, pale English dad. We stood out like sore thumbs.
Zebedee was determined to jump, so he got in the queue. When he got to the front and stared down at the water below, there was a long pause.
By now, many of the crowd below were paying attention. It was one thing watching the athletic young men taking the jump, but the little kid now standing at the top of the cliff really caught everyone's eye.
After a very long pause, he jumped.
The crowd around the lake erupted in cheers as his head re-emerged, grinning, from the water. He was the star of the day, the brave little kid who could give the tough young men a run for their money.
I was next in the queue.
I took a step forward and stood on the edge. I stood there a long time, trying to summon up the courage to jump, with the crowd below me watching.
I couldn't do it.
I climbed down and jumped from a lower spot, disappointed in myself.
I thought I would just chalk the whole thing up to experience and forget about it.
But it bugged me for the rest of the year.
So the next time we were on holiday, this time in Kefalonia in Greece, my wife scouted out another clifftop where locals liked to jump.
My previous failure had been eating away at me, so I was pensive as I made my up up to the top.
Zebedee jumped first, and then I stood at the top, looking down at the big drop below my feet, for ten minutes.
A friendly French guy, who had been jumping all day, offered to film me. He then regretted that offer, because it was taking me so long to step off the top that he never knew when to press record.
Eventually, I did it.
My technique was terrible, I had never jumped from this height before, and I didn't know how to do it. I flapped my arms like a bird, mostly out of fear, and all the onlookers were laughing.
I landed in the water with a crash, and my outstretched arms were stinging. At least I had the good sense to keep my legs together. The friendly French guy explained that the correct form is to drop like a pin, with your arms pointing straight down.
But once I had done it, it changed me.
The only thing that had been holding me back when I was up there was fear. Jumping into deep water from eight or ten meters isn't dangerous, it's just scary.
I went back to the top and did it again. This time with better technique.
And now every time we go on holiday, we seek out cliffs we can jump from. Once I conquered my fear, I became hooked on the thrill. Jumping off cliffs is fun.
But the thing that helped me overcome my fear was regret. Not taking that jump in Lokrum had eaten away at me, because I knew I could do it, but I hadn't allowed myself. I let my fear box me in.
So when the chance came again, I knew that the regret was worse than the fear, and I stepped off the top of that cliff.
It's never too late to do the things that once seemed too difficult. Whether it's fear, inertia, or procrastination, we often end up loving the things we once avoided. It's just a case of taking that first step off the edge.