When the Montreal Director hired Gregory, I think there was only one word that described the reaction of all the other dancers – shock. The man couldn’t dance. OK – that’s a bit harsh BUT he definitely was not up to the technical standard of the rest of the group. He couldn’t turn, he could barely lift his legs up higher than his hips, he couldn’t do the splits, he couldn’t balance and he couldn’t move fast. It was a total mystery to all of us. Gregory had been hired during one of the annual company auditions. The minute he signed his contract (the same day as the audition), he returned to his home in New York, put his things in order and flew out to meet the company…or at least meet part of the company…at the Club Med in Guadeloupe. Again – we were surprised. The Director always chose her few favorite dancers for this kind of trip – so what was the new guy doing here? On our second day in Guadeloupe – Denise, Jacques and I were hanging out on the beach sunning. Along came the Director, pulling Gregory (wearing his underwear) by the hand. “I’m going to teach him how to swim,” she announced as they passed us. She led Gregory into the surf and for the next hour we watch them as she held up his body while he feebly kicked his legs and flung his arms. Mystery solved. Gregory got hired because he was hot. This is not to say that we didn’t like Gregory. Far from it. He was a great guy to have around. Fun, hard working – he just couldn’t keep up technically with most of the company. Luckily the director found a good way to use him. Gregory lifted women – plus he took over a role that most of the other men absolutely hated – a lip-synching, gyrating, boy candy number. A lip-synching, gyrating, boy candy number that made him a star around the globe. Women went crazy over Gregory. Trust me – he was hot. He was a muscle-bound black man with round cheeks and an engaging smile.
The main reason that most of us adored Gregory was – well – he was funny and things just happened to Gregory. Despite the numerous times that we traveled to Martinique and Guadeloupe, Gregory never got around to buying a bathing suit. Don’t ask me why – I have yet to figure out the foggy mass that is the male brain. He preferred to walk around the beaches in his underwear. He had two pairs – two equally offensive pairs of underwear – although I can only remember one of them – a Rolling Stones mouth logo. Yep – Gregory was definitely a class act. AND Despite the Director’s one-on-one lessons, Gregory never did learn how to swim. Plus he wasn’t into sunbathing – so scratch two beach activities. We did have a fair amount of free time. He needed some diversions.
Gregory decided to take up snorkeling. Snorkeling without swimming you ask? Gregory found a way. He snorkeled in three feet of water – for hours. Walking around in thigh-high water and occasionally shoving his face into the water. One day, Gregory was showing the new company guy Lucas how to snorkel – explaining how to use the mask and the breathing tube. Gregory plunged his head into the water to demonstrate the equipment and came up sputtering. He had forgotten to put the breathing tube in his mouth and sucked in a mouthful of sea water.
Next, Gregory decided to try water skiing. Again – you might ask yourself what a guy who couldn’t swim was doing on water skis. We wondered the same thing. The “why” part we got – Gregory was trying to impress a girl. She was part of the Club Med staff and she worked at the water ski station. Gregory figured that with the required life jacket – he’d probably be OK. The girl and the boat driver helped Gregory get ready. They pushed him into the water and the boat took off. Gregory did manage to stand up – but only briefly. Every time he did, his feet would turn out – shooting the skis in opposite directions and sending Gregory airborne and into the waves below. The boat driver would drive back to Gregory, get him ready for another try and start again. It was hopeless. After a couple of tries, the boat driver gave up and told Gregory to swim back to shore. While the boat driver took two more clients out, Gregory calmly dog paddled – in the one spot. Eventually the driver took his boat over to where Gregory was paddling. “Hey man, you should be back at shore by now.” Gregory looked at him and said “You know, I’d really like to be back on shore right now too but I can’t swim.” The driver’s eyes popped in amazement and he started to laugh. He hauled Gregory up into the boat and drove him back to the pier.
The Director loved to scuba dive and as with all her passions – she wanted all of us to share the experience. She had taken Gregory, Lucas, Delia and I out for a picnic on a neighboring island and as we were returning, she brought up the subject of scuba diving. Gregory pointed out his inability to swim but our director assured him that swimming wasn’t a necessary skill for scuba. After all, you weren’t trying to stay above the water. All of us had had quite a bit to drink that afternoon so we were feeling pretty fearless. We agree to give scuba a try. We went directly to the diving boats. Our director was great friends with all the diving instructors – so rules like orientation classes and stuff like that got thrown out the window. She wanted to show us how to dive now so that’s what we were going to do. The five of us and one of the diving instructors suited up in the flippers, masks, tanks and breathing tubes. One by one we jumped off the boat into the water. The water wasn’t deep – the boat was tied to the dock. Delia had done this before and was fine. Lucas adapted quickly and enjoyed himself. I had a claustrophobic panic attack due to the lack of peripheral sight and the sound of my own breathing. And Gregory? He had a great old time. Between the alcohol and the pure oxygen (which was great for his asthma) Gregory knew that he had found his water sport.
Now I hate NOT being able to conquer something – especially if I’m being held back by my own fear. I had to conquer scuba diving. Luckily, I was dating the head diving instructor Bonite at the time. Bonite had worked for Jacques Cousteau. He suggested that I try it again but this time from the beach. We would just slowly walk from the beach to the deeper water – which would alleviate my biggest fear – not being able to get the surface immediately. It made sense to me. The next afternoon, Bonite and I met on the beach next to the pier, suited up and walked into the water. It was absolutely wonderful. I had no fear whatsoever. While we were under, Bonite started to run me through some of the certification tests – like taking off your mask and putting it on again. Suddenly we heard a big splash in the water. We turned in time to see a body sinking to the ocean floor where it came to rest – on its back. Pascal, one of the other diving instructors came into view. He was doing a slow motion “Come to me” wave to the body. The body on the ocean floor flailed in slow motion but remained on its back. It kind of looked like a baby turtle that had flipped over onto its back. The baby turtle was Gregory. After his excellent scuba day with the Director, he had decided to take formal diving lessons. Where he ran into problems was when he insisted that he be given a diving suit (because the water was too cold for him). Since diving suits are made of a buoyant material, Pascal had attached a weight belt to him. So – there was Gregory – on the bottom of the ocean – a helpless baby turtle. Pascal swam down to him, removed the weight belt and took him up to the boat. By the end of the week, a bunch of us had earned our diving certification and were to be taken out on a deep dive. Delia and I were eating dinner with the diving instructors the night before. I turned to Pascal and asked him if Gregory was coming on the dive. Pascal had been working with Gregory for almost a week. He looked at me and shook his head, “No, it would be suicide.” The only thing that Gregory had mastered so far was the ability to sink like a rock. Apparently knowing how to swim is an asset for scuba.