By Rod MacDonald, A Proud Canadian family,
Kids Sea Camp Magic is a real thing, thank God! Now sit right down, and you will hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip. Okay, this is not about seven castaways and their misadventures but about our family of four: Rod, Carol, our son Will (14), our daughter Lily (10), and our trip to the other side of the planet to go scuba diving with Kids Sea Camp on one of many trips.
I celebrated my 50th birthday that year, and we wanted to celebrate with something big. Carol and I had learned about Kids Sea Camp, owned and operated by Margo Peyton from South Carolina, from a Scuba Diving Magazine story. We read that parents and their kids could scuba dive together as a family, something we had dreamt about since the kids were born.
We started with an incredible Kids Sea Camp trip to Belize, and both kids made lifelong friends, as did Carol and I. We then chose Bonaire, and Costa Rica. Every trip had Kids Sea Camp magic. We found like-minded families that became forever friends, our kids learned about the ocean and found connections to other kids worldwide, and we bonded as a family. Every detail was taken care of, as Margo and Tom or their magical dive team members traveled with us. There were many unforgettable moments like horseback riding, blow-karting, special presenters, and incredible slide shows that captured it all.
Margo gave us her cell phone number. It’s nothing special; she does that with every client. She even puts it in the trip welcome letter. Why is that so important? Well, let me tell you this story!
I called Margo on a Sunday afternoon; yes, she did pick up the phone and happily discussed trip options. Lily, our youngest, wanted to get PADI certified. As we were mulling ideas, Margo reminded me of the offer that she had made the year before. “Rod,” she said, “remember last year when Will hurt his foot on the beach running in the sand and missed a few days of diving?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Well,” she said, “remember I promised to comp him for next year’s diving, should you come back.” I had forgotten this gesture until Margo was kind enough to remind me.
Thankfully, a few doctors were on that trip, and Will dove for a couple of days with one fin. Margo towed him around and became his buddy; she was so impressed at his tenacity to keep diving that she promised to cover the cost of diving on his next trip. She was good to her word!
“Why don’t you come with us to Yap and Palau? His diving is on me for both weeks.”
Well, that cinched it. It was the trip of a lifetime for my 50th birthday. Lily gets certified in paradise, and Will dives for free. The magic of Micronesia, here we come!
There was only one moment of sober second thought afterward, which was when we looked at our travel itinerary. Toronto to Los Angeles to Honolulu to Guam to Yap, then to Palau, then back. Oh well, what could go wrong, right? You only ever ask that question if you purchase trip insurance, which by the way, Margo repeatedly asks everyone to do. “Remember that point.”
Four months later, after much anticipation, the big day of our departure was here. We couldn’t wait!
It was the night before our departure. Our tickets had been long since purchased. We had just spent the last several days winding down our business. Our bags were packed, and like all scuba divers, travelers had meticulously weighed each, ensuring they were under 50 pounds.
We had taken our kids out of school a week before the summer break, as both insisted nothing happens in the last week anyway. Okay, let’s go with that.
It was 10:00 PM on Thursday, before our 9:15 AM departure the following day. Carol and I were sitting on our bed amongst the luggage, reviewing last-minute details. “You got the passports?” I asked Carol.
“Yes,” she replied.
I went downstairs to grab the file marked “Kids Sea Camp,” which held all the paperwork and details that Margo’s team had provided us months ago. There’s a lot, and not a question is unanswered if you take the time to read it all. (That right, there is another point! Take the time to read it all.) I decided to give the tickets a quick perusal, but something seemed a bit puzzling to me.
“Carol,” I said, “wait for it. What day is it today?”
“It’s the 20th,” she answers calmly.
“No, it’s not,” I nervously reply. “It’s the 19th, right, isn’t it?”
“No, I’m sure it’s the 20th. It’s my brother’s birthday tomorrow,” she replied, still calm.
Panic versus Kids Sea Camp magic
At that moment, I think, “Houston, we have a problem.” How could I have made such an enormous mistake? As I hope many of you can relate to it, I’m hoping for some sympathy here. In our oh-so-busy lives, where we run around constantly trying to achieve “work-life balance,” I somehow locked in my brain that we were leaving Friday morning, not Thursday morning. I was so positive that there was no need to double-check this vital detail.
Everything around me changed to slow motion; if that makes sense, my mind started to speed up. I had already deduced in seconds that we were totally and utterly screwed, but things were still moving slowly around me. We were flying to the other side of the planet with no less than four connections, to a country called Yap, which only has two flights arrive weekly.
Someone asked me afterward how it felt at that precise moment. The best way I can describe it is: you show up for your wedding at 11:00 AM on Sunday in your tuxedo. You walk into the church, and you ask the janitor, “Where is everyone?” With an incredulous look, the janitor smiles and replies, “Don’t you know your wedding was yesterday, son?”
It’s a total “Twilight Zone” moment, where that spinning vortex thingy makes you dizzy. I instantly sweat and feel totally sick to my stomach, and I say, “Carol, I don’t think we are going on our trip.”
Carol looks at me and says, “What?”
“Carol, our plane to LA left twelve hours ago! We cannot be in LA tomorrow morning at 8:45 AM when our flight leaves for Honolulu with Margo and the other Kids Sea Campers.”
Carol looks at me and replies loudly, “OH … WE’RE GOING ALRIGHT!”
Now, I am one of the most fortunate guys I know because, at that very moment, Carol could have, oh I don’t know, had an absolute crazy fit, but no, she just knew that somehow, the MacDonald family was going to make it to our much-anticipated destination. Not to break her optimistic spirit, I decided the best course of action was to go along with this delusion to delay any possible inevitable but justified release of tension that would most certainly come my way.
The next thing I know, I am sitting in front of my computer on Expedia, Travelocity, or “I don’t know,” as I can’t remember much about that moment. But I can now tell you from experience that if you book with a third-party vendor and something like this happens, you are S.O.L.
So I’m looking at a new possible alternative travel destination to (the Moon), knowing I had just about as much chance of getting there as Yap. I tried calling Air Canada to purchase new flights, at that point a minimum of $8,000 per person and two-plus days of travel one way. No sympathy from any airline, and all told me to contact the third-party vendor from whom I purchased. My heart is not in it. Carol is sitting beside me, as is our son, who now knows about the dilemma.
His first comment is, “Does this mean I must go to school tomorrow?”
“No, William, you don’t have to go to school tomorrow,” I replied. Then I started thinking that our whole family is going to be hiding out in the house for the next two weeks with the curtains drawn so no one ever finds out about my massive blunder. Of course, this also means that we are going to have to Photoshop pictures of each of us on images that we downloaded from the internet of Yap and Palau’s magic sunsets.
The phone rings. I pick up my cell, and it’s Margo Peyton from Kids Sea Camp. It is just before midnight.
“Hi Rod,” says Margo, “How are you guys doing?”
I had left a message on her voicemail around 11:00 PM, to let her know what happened and not to be looking for the MacDonald’s the following morning in Los Angeles, where we were supposed to meet them. “Oh we’ve had better moments,” I cheerily replied.
Well, without skipping a beat, Margo says the following. “Rod, this is what you are going to do. Since you left your message for me, I have been on the phone with my air travel consolidator Lennie. She is in Guam.
“Guam?” I reply.
With all the confidence of an NFL quarterback, she replies, “Yes, Guam. That’s why I answered the phone.” Are you ready to write this down?”
As I jotted down our new, unbelievable travel plans, I wondered, Who is this person on the other end of the phone? I knew Margo ran this great little company with a loyal following of families, some of whom had traveled with her for 14+ years. She has thousands of youth diver certifications in the Scuba Diving Hall of Fame. But I didn’t know she was also a magical tactical travel guru. It was as if she had a mobile travel console and could reroute planes to ensure her clients didn’t miss their Kids Sea Camp destiny. (Margo had worked as an airline reservations agent for 15 years, and it showed!)
The new itinerary she booked was as follows: we would now fly from Toronto to Denver to Japan to Guam (where we would meet up with Margo and our fellow campers) and then on to Yap. Margo had already arranged with her Guam contact to change all our other flights with United—at no extra charge or penalty. No extra charge. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Before calling me at midnight, Margo had already entirely rerouted us from another city the next day at no charge. If that isn’t a reason to book with a travel agent instead of directly or with a third-party app, I don’t know what is.
Real Kids Sea Camp Magic
We found ourselves at Toronto International Airport the following day, having not slept a wink. We arrived two hours and 45 minutes before our flight. Not so fast! Remember, they say you must be at the airport three hours before departure. The gate staff sternly informed us that the door would have been closed if we’d arrived 15 seconds later. And as we all know, once that door is closed, it’s closed! I did not tell Margo.
We were sitting on the plane, completely exhausted, and the trip hadn’t started yet. Carol said, “Do you think our luggage will make it?”
At that point, I’d inflicted enough stress on my wife, so I answered, “Yes, I’m sure it will be fine.”
Carol wasn’t buying it, but she just closed her eyes, as did I. Our travel from Toronto to Denver to Japan was uneventful, and we even got to fly on a brand new Dreamliner. This was a great experience, as the kids watched unlimited movies, allowing Carol and me to grab some restless but much-needed sleep.
We arrived safely in the land of the rising sun and got the unexpected bonus of a “Japan” stamp in our passports—bonus! While waiting for our flight to Guam, I texted Margo to let her know the MacDonalds had made it this far. I figured Margo’s awareness might be helpful if there were any issues with our tight connection in Guam. She responded, “Make sure when you arrive in Guam to go through the transit line—you have a tight connection.” Remember that little detail.
Magic Margo Meets Us in Guam
We arrived in Guam, instantly facing another long line for customs. Again, we looked at our watches every 15 seconds, as if that could bend time. It couldn’t. Margo called multiple times, wondering where we were. We missed the transit line! Margo called security and had us escorted through. We were again auditioning for a Hertz commercial, running through the airport. Tom Peyton was already on the plane with the group; the flight attendants were trying to close the door. It was almost too late. Margo refused to board and told Tom to go ahead; she’d meet him later in Palau. Tom wouldn’t hear of it. He pleaded with the crew to keep the door open.
We ran down the corridor until we saw Margo. We slowed down to catch our breath. “NO!” she yelled. “Keep running! They’re closing the door!” We took another breath and ran. I couldn’t believe we might make it. We reached the door, and guess who was holding it open? Tom, waiting for his wife Margo—that’s right, Magic Margo.
We all made it. Tom hugged his wife, and we thanked him for waiting and holding the plane. Tom said, with endearing sarcasm, “I wasn’t holding it for you; I wasn’t letting this flight leave without my wife!”
As we boarded, applause broke out, and off we went. We didn’t know any other Kids Sea Camp families on the flight. However, as we hurried to our seats, we could tell who they were because they gave us high-fives and hugs. Margo, of course, had told everyone about the Canadian family who, against all odds, had done the impossible and “won their own amazing race.” She’d had asked them all to beg the crew to hold the flight.
Based on our next two weeks in Yap and Palau with Kids Sea Camp, Margo and her team, the MacDonald family, won the million-dollar prize. When we were diving with the celestial manta rays and then touring the Rock Islands, we realized just how close we’d come to missing the trip of a lifetime.
Somehow, it was even more amazing, more humbling, and, dare I say, a bit sweeter. The lesson here is that Margo answers her phone; she’s a real person who cares about what happens not only at Kids Sea Camps but getting to and from them. She works hard to make sure everyone is treated like family. There are many ways to book trips and save a dime or even a dollar, but none of them will have your back when something goes wrong. A storm shows up, a flight is canceled, or, like me, you just forget what day you’re leaving. Third-party online booking systems don’t assist beyond the sale. But Margo, Tom, and the Kids Sea Camp team travel with you, so they’re personally invested in the best possible outcomes. The best way to say thank you is book directly with Kids Sea Camp for your family dive vacations. This is a small business that makes dreams a reality for many families and thousands of kids, and the MacDonald family will support this small business.
From the MacDonald family—Carol, William, Lily, and me—we’d like to thank Margo and Tom (Margo’s husband), from the bottom of our hearts.
P.S.: Kids Sea Camp company has never had a diving accident in 25 years of running Kids Sea Camps. It has the best safety rating for children and diving in the dive industry, with over 8,000 youth diving certifications. That’s not a one-person job. The people they choose to partner with are some of the best in the world for family-friendly instructors and resorts. And by the way, in case you were wondering, our luggage made it too—dive gear and all.
