Love And Death In The Sea

The sea has almost killed me a couple of times. It wasn’t her fault; it was mine, for not respecting her. I still remember the last time, a stormy day off the Costa Brava of Spain, in the early summer of 2008. Every time I think about it, my heart races and my guts jump to my throat.

The cove where I used to swim every day was hit by a storm with strong eastern winds. Unfriendly waves were breaking in chaotic patterns. But beyond the surf zone, the sea seemed swimmable. In a moment of Catalan bravado, I put on my swimming suit, mask and fins, and got into the water. It was crazy, but I did it. I swallowed mouthfuls of sand and salt while I was trying to break through the surf zone. Unpleasantly fighting, I swam – I still don’t know why – for twenty minutes. The storm got worse, and I decided to stop for the day. I turned to swim back. Then I realised I couldn’t get to the beach.

Waves were breaking all around me. I tried to bodysurf one wave to the shore, but it collapsed suddenly and took me down under the water. When I surfaced to take a breath, I turned around and a second wave hit me just as hard, taking me down again. I hit the sandy bottom. I pushed myself up, but once again, waves were coming and I couldn’t rest or breathe. I was caught in the surf zone, with waves pushing me out and a current pulling me in. I wasn’t getting any closer to the beach.

After a few more attempts, I decided to let myself go and give up the fight. I took a deep breath. The next wave took me down and forward. I hit the bottom with my back. I rolled over, hit my head, and after what seemed like the longest minute of my life, I found myself lying in a foot of water. I scrambled out of the water and onto the beach. I’d got out, but I had lost my mask, snorkel and one fin. My whole body was sore, as if a gang of boxers had punched me viciously. I sat on the beach breathless, watching the sea and feeling lucky to be alive. I walked back home slowly, ears down like a beaten dog.

Some days the sea wants us, and some days she doesn’t. Since that day, I haven’t been to the sea when she doesn’t want me. I have learnt my lesson. I now thank the sea every day the surface is calm.