Last week Liz and I were on vacation–with three other couples and their kids–in Cape May, NJ, the southern tip of the New Jersey shore. We had a great time overall, although a little storm came in mid-week, which also led to some amazing waves in the following days.
Late Friday morning a bunch of us were in the water, battling some pretty intense waves–and having a blast doing it.
Until …
I was in the water up to my waist, so I felt plenty safe, even as the waves were crashiLast week Liz and I were on vacation–with three other couples and their kids–in Cape May, NJ, the southern tip of the New Jersey shore. We had a great time overall, although a little storm came in mid-week, which also led to some amazing waves in the following days.
Late Friday morning a bunch of us were in the water, battling some pretty intense waves–and having a blast doing it.
Until …
I was in the water up to my waist, so I felt plenty safe, even as the waves were crashing down. And these were big waves. Maybe eight to ten feet. No baby waves. Wave waves. And then I got hit by one wave, went under for a few seconds, and when I came back up, found myself about 25 feet deeper into the ocean. The wave had a massive undertow that really dragged me out there in a hurry.
Despite the distance, I still felt all right, figuring I would just swim back in. But those waves and the undertow kept dragging me back to the point where I could no longer stand and was struggling. Thing is, my wife also got dragged out with me, and she’s a half foot shorter than me, and also still not 100 percent post-heart surgery, and she was struggling.
Really struggling.
So I swam over to her and said, "I got you." Clearly I didn’t, because another wave hit me, and dragged us back. And then some panic set in. And as I tried to help her, my energy was depleting, which made me struggle even more. I was having a hard time now just keeping my own head above water. It’s tough feeling like you’re in trouble. Its even worse to see your wife also struggling in the water with no immediate help at the ready. She was scared. I was getting scared. So I raised my arm for the lifeguard, although I had no idea if they saw me.
But what I did see was my wife’s head bobbing up and down in the water, and the fear in her eyes. I then yelled for help–and god bless them–a couple of teenagers, good swimmers, dragged us toward shore until the lifeguards got to us.
In the end neither I nor Liz was hurt, but it really took the wind out of my sails. I was legitimately scared, and it took the rest of the day to shake it off. Even at the end of the day Liz and I were very hesitant to go back in the water, even at a very safe level. We were shaken.
That night the fear came back to me. That sense of helplessness, of struggle.
I’m not saying I’m never going back in the water. Not at all. But I got a very real scare the other day, and another reminder that the ocean is no joke. A healthy fear is good fear. And whether I had or not before, I sure have it now.
