From a Dream Honeymoon to a Startling Reality My Florida Getaway Ended with Me in an Ambulance

A Wild Ending to My Florida Honeymoon From Bliss to an Ambulance Ride

An Unforgettable Honeymoon Fishing Adventure: A Lesson in Hydration

Couple with their back to camera watching the sunset as they hold each other

My wife and I (not pictured) ended up having a not-so-perfect honeymoon in Florida. -Maridav/Shutterstock

Ah, the honeymoon – a time for love, romance, and unforgettable adventures. But let me tell you, my honeymoon was anything but smooth sailing. Literally. Picture this: Fort Lauderdale, Florida, a sunny day, and a deep-sea fishing excursion that turned into a comedy of errors.

Now, imagine boarding the boat, excitement in the air, ready for a day of reeling in the big ones. But what’s this? No water on board? In scorching heat? It was like being stranded in a desert with a fishing rod. Lesson one: never sail without water. It’s like going to a desert island without sunscreen. You just don’t do it.

But let’s not dwell on the negative. We pushed on, determined to make the most of our fishing adventure. And boy, things got interesting real quick. We found ourselves surrounded by a family on board – a father, his teenage daughter, and his preteen son. We exchanged greetings and became fast friends, as one does when you’re on a floating vessel together.

The temperature soared to a sweltering 105 degrees Fahrenheit, and all I wanted was a refreshing bottle of water and some decent grub. But what did we get? Bologna, bread, and soda. I mean, come on! I felt like a desert mirage, longing for an oasis of hydration.

Nonetheless, undeterred by the lackluster meal options, we continued our journey, sailing past luxurious yachts and celebrity waterfront homes. The excitement was palpable, as anticipation built for the moment when our fishing lines would come alive. And when it happened, it was like a scene from an action movie – all five poles getting hit simultaneously, as if the ocean itself couldn’t resist our charm.

We had stumbled upon a band of Bonito, not the tastiest of fish, but feisty fighters nonetheless. Being the hero wannabe, I reeled in my catch proudly and decided to assist the rest of the crew in their battle with these aquatic warriors. It was a thrilling dance of man versus fish.

But alas, our blissful fishing expedition took an unexpected turn. First, my neck cramped up, followed by my left hand. It was like my body was staging a mutiny against me. I found myself gripped by an uncontrollable force, unable to release the fishing rod from my tightly locked grasp.

To make matters worse, my face went numb, drool spilled from my mouth, and to my horror, I unintentionally turned the preteen boy’s face into a vomit canvas. I must admit, I was the Picasso of puke in that moment.

With the situation quickly escalating, the captain made the necessary call to summon both the police and the US Coast Guard. Panic ensued as my dear wife and the first mate showered me with ice and cold water, attempting to bring down my body temperature. It was like being caught in the crossfire of a water fight during a blizzard.

As we anxiously sailed back to shore, escorted by the authorities, I couldn’t utter a single word. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and my wife took that adage to heart, capturing every moment and promptly sharing it on social media. I guess she’ll do anything for the perfect honeymoon story.

Luckily, I was diagnosed with a heatstroke and severe dehydration – a cautionary tale of the perils of underestimating the power of the sun. Thanks to the icy shower and timely medical attention, my organs were spared from lasting damage. A lesson learned, indeed.

Oh, and did I mention that my new wife and I are now happily divorced? Turns out, surviving a fishing trip from hell is not the recipe for a harmonious marriage. But fear not, dear readers, for you can learn from my misfortune. Always bring plenty of water on any adventure involving a hot day and a boat. Just like the saying goes, you can’t fish for love on an empty water bottle.

So, my fellow fashionistas and adventurous souls, take this cautionary tale to heart, and remember to hydrate. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of Bonito. Stay cool, stay fashionable, and let your next fishing excursion be filled with only the good kind of adrenaline.

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