Let Me Tell You About the Time I Was Almost Swept Out to Sea
It’s a good idea to look up every once in a while to see where you’re going.
The day started with a familiar routine. Run, breakfast, shower. I was anxious. More than normal. So, the schedule was designed to keep me occupied and my mind at ease, for this was my wedding day.
We had several hours to kill mid-day and rather than waste it sitting around, we felt we should take advantage of the vacation.
Let’s enjoy the beach here on Kaua’i. We grabbed some of the brightly colored boogie boards from the condo closet and ran off to a spot at one of the nearby public beaches.
The water was warm and the conditions were perfect. Regular waves, not too large, not too small, and only a few people on the beach. The overcast skies likely kept the crowds away. My friend was more of an avid swimmer than I and was whipping through the water, having grown up with a pool, but I could easily handle the two-foot waves.
We took turns making runs and were joined by several other friends just before lunch. A band of brothers we were, most of us friends since elementary school. This trip was as much a celebration of our friendship as it was my wedding. We brought lunch to the beach park, reminisced, rode waves, and ate. But soon we were short on time and had room for one more ride.
We went out, way out. Of course, being the last run, we wanted to make the most of it. It had to be epic. Oh boy, was it.
We paddled farther and farther, but were oblivious to the undercurrent. Sneakily, we drifted off beyond the buoy line and down shore from the beach park. We unknowingly floated sideways more than we floated outward.
We desperately wanted a good wave to end on and had discerning eyes on each wave as it passed unsatisfactorily. Watching the waves so closely meant we were not paying attention to where we were going.
I don’t remember which of us realized we had gone too far, but once we did, we chuckled and tried to reverse course. Bellying up on the boards, we positioned to head back in. We paddled and paddled, but made zero progress. Yikes. The out-current had us firmly in its grip.
Mild panic began to set in. I thought… How are we going to get back to the beach? Am I going to make it back in time for my wedding? My family had traveled so far to be here with me, they’re going to kill me. My fiance is going to kill me. That is, if the sea doesn’t kill me first.
This evolved into problem solving and fantastical negotiation. Maybe we could ride the ocean current around the point and land on the beach at the opposite side. Maybe if we rest until the current wasn’t as strong, we could then paddle and easily swim back to shore. Just get me back to the beach, I’ll be good the rest of the day.
We quickly realized these were not good solutions. The current would not direct us back toward the beach, to any beach really, and resting was not an option because we were pressed for time.
The panic grew from mild to severe. This was turning into a full-on situation. Then, we tried frantic paddling. Gonna make it, gonna make it, gonna make it, channeling Steve Martin in Three Amigos. Again, no progress and now we were tired. Any hope of paddling our way back was waning.
I could barely see the beach, let alone the people standing on it. I was too far away to recognize any facial expressions or body language. I wasn’t sure if anyone noticed we were having trouble. This panicked me more. What would happen to us if we were unable to paddle in, and no one knew it?
I flashed through the bad decisions I’ve made in my life, and grew angry and embarrassed I let this one get out of control. This situation was growing more and more dire by the moment and I started to think this would be the last bad decision I make.
Again I tried to paddle, laboring as hard as I could. I willed myself against the current, thrashed my arms and legs to exhaustion, but it was no use. We continued to float away. Safety was shrinking on the horizon as we stared longingly at firm ground.
I don’t recall what conversations we had while in the water, but I know what we would say now... It makes for a good story and we chalk it up to being young and stupid. It’s ironic that we were there celebrating the life and bond we had as friends, and the life I was about to begin with a new wife, but we were literally drifting apart from all of it.
I wonder sometimes how close we actually came to not coming back. I don’t think I wondered then, but I feel like it was not a small chance we’d have suffered a much more disastrous fate. Luckily, someone had seen us and we were rescued.
“What are you two doing way out here?” the coast guard asked us condescendingly from aboard his jet ski. “You know, the current won’t take you back to the beach. You shouldn’t be out here!”
“We’ve learned that already, and we’re stuck, we can’t get ourselves back in.” I replied, speaking tiredly.
The guard tossed us a tow rope and he hauled us back to the beach. He reprimanded us, explained that the current would have eventually turned us into the point and we likely would have been tossed and crushed by waves on the rocks, a fate mere minutes away. He said we were lucky he spotted us while returning to this beach. I hung my head in shame.
Holding the rope was difficult, with tired muscles that were spent paddling in frivolous self-rescue attempts. The scolding ride was several minutes long, adding emphasis to how far we actually traveled on our own.
We arrived at the beach with wry grins and shaken confidence. Our friends gave us grief, but were assuredly relieved we had returned. Given the time constraint, I wasn’t able to reflect on what had just happened. It was late and I needed to get ready for the wedding.
On the one hand, the boogie boarding worked as intended. It kept me preoccupied with something else, though my mind wasn’t entirely off the wedding and I certainly wasn’t at east. I fretted the consequences of being late, and possibly not making it back at all. I made a lifelong memory that day and the wedding ceremony hadn’t happened yet.
The whole experience was wild, and it’s easier now, so many years later, to make light of it. Plus, I learned an important lesson. It’s easy to lose yourself on a journey, but it’s important to pop your head up regularly to see where you’re going. In not doing so, you risk being swept out to sea.
