Close encounter with Davy Jones Locker

I have always been warned to keep away from water and water bodies. I mean the kind where you jump to dip in. And I have been mostly obedient to that commandment, since I cannot swim.
However being in Maldives and not developing kin to water was literally like being a fish out of water, pun intended.
So at Huraa island, my last few hours before I would leave early next morning for the Maldivian capital, Male; I decided to make the most of it and go for the late night snorkeling adventure that the resort advertised.
I had kept away from the evening's turtle watch and dolphin spotting rides, as I was sure that the dolphins and turtles followed different time tables than us human beings and it would be very difficult, neigh impossible to match ours with theirs. Maybe I was being pessimistic, but maybe I was right.
Muhammad, the instructor, was not too enthusiastic in the beginning but regarded his duty to keep the customer happy.
So we took out the flippers, the life vests, torches and the snorkelling gear and headed out to sea, not too far from the shore. His teenage son accompanied us, and that made me feel more confident about this late night adventure.
I didn't have much idea what late night snorkelling meant, but my instructor told me that the reefs were not the same at night as it was during the day. The sea life that came out at night was different from the one I had seen during the day.
Also there was a chance of seeing sea turtles as these came out mostly at night. I was enthralled by this idea.
On the way out,  we discovered that most of the torches were not working and we found with difficulty some that worked properly.
The instructor waved the torch ahead of the speed boat as we headed out to sea. This was because the speed boat lacked spotlights to avoid head on collision with oncoming boats, I noted with dismay. The chances of hitting rocks seemed remote as Muhammad and his son seemed accustomed to this part of the sea.
Finally the speedboat motor petered out as we looked for a good place to dive.
I had the life vest around my shoulders and waist and hesitantly I plunged into the pitch black but warm waters. I dropped like a stone into the water. It didn't register on my mind why the vest was not keeping me buoyed up in the water like it had during the day. It seemed like I had tied stones to my body. I took in some water, came up and again helplessly dropped into the water again as I flailed my legs helplessly to no avail. And it didn't help that I was holding a flashlight in my other hand tied to my wrist by a short strap.
I tried to get back to the boat and also get Muhammad, the dive master's attention. He seemed to be aware of my predicament and tried to shove me towards the boat but though he was sturdy, he was short and weighed much less than me and avoided the grips of my flailing hands. I was in  a state of panic. The next thing I knew was I was near the speed boat's side with Muhammad's son  flashing a light over me. Was it Muhammad who pushed me towards the boat? Or the boat was pushed through the water towards me? Or I had miraculously made the short distance towards the speedboat all by myself?
As I pushed myself over the sides and landed in a heap on the boat's floor, gulping out water, I realized what I had come close to. Over-confidence, the tourist guide book had said, is what leads to watery graves. Never under estimate water, even when you are reasonably good at swimming.
I don't know what had gone wrong. The life vest seemed to be leaking, or was that even possible? Or maybe the vest was too small, not for adults? I never knew why I had failed to float. I hastily requested Muhammad that we return to shore; I had enough. However Muhammad was not about to end the trip without having something come of it. I could see his flashlight lighting up under the water as he swam around. His son told me he was looking for fish.
After what seemed like an eternity we headed towards shore.
Several times Muhammad waved his flashlight across the water's surface. He was pointing towards sea turtles, but they were too quick for me. I asked him if they were black, but he told me the turtles were white.
After ending the scary trip, I was reminded of the close encounter I had, when I saw the remaining tourists at the resort indulging in a candle light dinner which reminded me instead of something else more spooky.