Tuesday, September 9, 2008

LOST AT SEA

Sunset on a beach on Oahu. And not just any beach. This is a artificial, man-made cove that is perfect - perfect sand consistency, perfect amount of scattered shells, perfectly constructed rock/wave breakers... and on this particular evening, a perfect sunset with even the green flash.

Imagine Walt Disney constructing a personal beach for J.W. Marriott - manicured lawn right up to the sand, precise number of rustic looking shady-retreats (but all made from secure artificial plastics), and just enough controlled ocean to either wade or actually swim in.

But the one thing that was completely OUT of control at this little spot of man-made wonder was the ocean. There was a pretty nasty undertow even just a few feet out, and no lifeguards.

Kate, my granddaughter, decided right after sunset that this would be a good time to swim to Maui. And I, in my innocence, caught up with her and took hold of her hand, thinking this would suffice.

HA!

Instead of frolicking in the gently lapping edge of water, hand-in-hand with a two year old girl, I was DRAGGED into the waves almost to my waist, and felt Kate almost immediately being pulled out by the current.

Now, I did consider Kate's life a priority in this situation, but I must admit I was concerned about 1) my newish cell-phone (not guaranteed to be salt-water resistant) in my front pocket, and selfishly 2) my own safety since Kate was completely unfazed by any of this.

I ended up hauling Kate (and myself) out of the waves, completely soaked, and convinced her that sitting right on the water's edge and throwing wet sand at Grandma Hope was as much fun.

Remind me to wear my snorkeling gear next time we go.


1 comments:

Harmony said...

Ha! Ha! Ha! Woman, we WARNED you! In all fairness, the insaity that is Kate at the beach is hard to convey into words (although you did a pretty good job here)

Instead of worrying about the cell phone, I'd be screaming "THE CAMERA! SAVE THE CAMERA!"

Just think of it as proving yourself as a competent grandma. And strong swimmer.