This happened in
Photos
available of that trip: www.SeeMyPhotos.ORG,
follow the
travel link.
Some of
them are photography, most of them are at least interesting…
A
view from above (click for Google Maps):
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OK, here's
the story:
I was in
north
I went in
the water which is a rule breaker, since I was alone. No one else was in the
water past the ankles ...that should have been a clue. I marched in, chest
deep. It felt great. I turned back to shore, and tried to catch a wave to belly
surf. No luck. Tried another and another, but for some reason my sprints either
weren't fast enough or not enough wave... more likely it was both. I was
getting tired, and that is of course the biggest no no,
so I settled back in the upright position to regain my footing and walk back,
somewhat tired with a little water in my breathing bags (lungs).
No bottom.
Whoops...
Then, a
very dark and heart stopping thought: a typhoon rip tide embraced me.
Just a few
days before, a typhoon had hit
As I
assessed the situation, I knew I was in trouble, but I didn't know how much
yet. So, I relaxed and went onto my back, the safety net of ocean goers that
can't really swim Olympic style. Arms still cramping, I was on my back, trying
to calm down and catch my breath, but one by one toppling waves came: not enough
to bring me in, but enough to fill my face with water. So, I spouted water from
my lungs and mouth like a whale, and kept the pace in the "right"
direction, toward the shore. I began to realize that I kept turning, so I
watched the sun when I could, through those waves of smothering salt water.
I was about
to discover exactly how much trouble I was in...
I stayed on
my back, peddling in a way that maintained a balance between power output,
available oxygen, and arm and leg capacity (they were starting to cramp now
too). I kept at this...surely I was almost back in knee deep water. So I rolled
from my back, faced the shore, and tested... no bottom. I panicked: which could
have been a final and very FATAL error. My arms splashed wildly, I tried to
move to the shore, which really didn't seem that far away, but was nonetheless
out of reach.
Exhausted
now, I realized my error, though I tried for the bottom again. I felt a bit of
sand on tippy toes, but each wave pushed me further back and then I lost it; I lost
the feel of the shore and I lost hope that this was almost over. I was close to
giving up. Thoughts of a rescue entered my mind, until I realized that besides
a handful of ankle deep folks, no one knew where I was. Then, panic again as I
considered that my power was critically low after that frantic last sprint to
take advantage (or so I thought) of that little tease of sand. My arm and leg
muscles were burning, tired, and they had little left in them. Even tippy toes
reaching toward the bottom yielded nothing now, and it occurred to me that I
was continuing to drift out to sea. If even a full manic spring didn't get me
closer, what hope did I have?
Then, I
made a decision:
To live.
Once again,
onto my back, not to paddle in but to simply catch my breath. I let the frantic
rip tide take me out further, past where the waves started to topple, and I
relaxed. Catching my breath was punctuated less frequently with a face, mouth
and air passage filling deluge. I knew I was drifting further out, but I was focused
on establishing an equilibrium, not on getting back.
I started a
mantra: "I love you ocean."
Over and
over again (I love you ocean) I chanted (I love you ocean). Breath....(I love
you ocean) then relax (I love you ocean) then begin the paddling (I love
you ocean). Suddenly a wave breaks over my face as I reenter the danger
zone... (I love you ocean) (I love you wave) as I update my mantra
every time I taste the salt in my mouth and lungs. Cough, choke, enough air to
breath for a second (I love you ocean) then another wave covers my face.
And another fills my mouth with smothering salt. (I love you ocean). Keep the
pace. I would keep this up (I love you ocean) until I felt sand on my
butt. Suddenly, I felt a wave break like no other had in the last (was it an
hour I've been out here?). So, I did my final stupid thing... I tried for the
bottom. This time, it was there!
Chest deep.
I tried to contain my glee... but in
a second my hopeless contingent thoughts of drifting out after the setting sun
and hoping that the next tide would take me SOMEWHERE or I'd see a boat the
next day, of spending the long night on the water floating on my back ... these
thoughts were shattered and I was more than 6 inches out of the water. It was
then I noticed the gathering throng on the shore.... There were there not to
help me apparently, but to observe me drown. So I kept a stiff upper something,
and began to walk out of the water. No "bending down to kiss the
sand" for me! Step by step, I was closer to shore. Then... a hole, deeper
water was before me, and I was back up to my shoulders. But the waves were less
intense, and onward I kept plodding. I knew the dangers that still were around
me, the cramping could get so bad that I'd fall, then the water would take me
out again. I staggered like a drunkard, but kept plodding one. One by one, step
by step. Now, finally, I could see the curve of possibilities shoot past 50% in
my favor. I didn't want them to see me fall, no "getting down on my
knees" which would have been a good idea to catch my breath and insure
against cramping. But now it was, as the late James Doohan
from Star Trek would say, "A matter of pride."
Finally, the water was at knee
level, then calf level, and after what seemed like an eternity, ankle deep. On
I kept, step after step. Then... dry sand. Then, my bag, and on with the
glasses. Why hadn't anyone come to rescue me? Or at least walked up to greet
me? Mystery solved: The folks who all gathered to watch me drown were in fact
getting wedding photos taken in the sand and in some cases surf! It was magic
time out there, sun setting and the clouds were big and puffy. So rapt up in
their own tasks, no one noticed what happened!
Then,
another surprise: I checked my watch: only 35 minutes had passed since I
entered the water. Leaving my bathing suite on to dry, and shoes off to let my
feet try, I toweled for a few seconds, put on a T-shirt, gathered my bag and
slowly made my way toward the gate. I had a photographer take a few photos of
the recovered drowning victim (me) before I reached the wall. I climbed over,
walked a while away from the crowed, and sat back on the warm wall, I faced the
sun, and softly sobbed.
I can't
tell you what an experience like this does to every day to dos and
obligations... but I can say that Gene Hirschel is a changed man.
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Epilogue:
We all have
choices every day to decide how to live and what to be, and what a particular
experience means to us. Sometimes, that meaning and experience is much more
pivotal and meaningful than other times.
Last year,
I was choking and gasping for breath, and in that moment, I made a decision, I
decided to live. Funny thing is, we all do that every day, not in such a dramatic
way, but we make that decision nonetheless. The quality of our lives, the
quality of our actions, and quality of our relationships are all decisions,
too. Sometimes we have to embrace our deepest fears to get to what really
matters, and our deepest and most spiritual moments can occur, resulting in far
reaching changes, and learning.
