Never Turn Your Back On the Ocean

Only looks peaceful from a distance…(photo by me near South Point, Big Island of Hawaii)

On a hike to Onomea Bay on the Big Island of Hawaii, I watched a little boy play in the rocks near the water, his parents close by. A surprise wave hit him in the back and soaked him. Startled, he moved higher up the beach, while his dad admonished him:

“Never turn your back on the ocean.”

I’ve proclaimed my love for the ocean for decades. Yet, I never actually swam in the ocean until this trip.

I lived my first two decades in a part of Germany with a mild and rainy climate, dotted with rolling hills and rivers, small lakes and forests. I spent my second two decades in Montana, nestled beneath steep mountains and buried under more snow than I’d ever seen. More rivers and lakes and forests, but never the ocean.

I dreamed of the ocean and I talked of the ocean and I sometimes stood with my toes in the sand staring at it for a long time. On a visit to see family in Maryland when I was a teen, we went to Ocean City, where I stood in the water on an overcast, windy day. On my senior class trip, I made out on a beach in Malta with my first real boyfriend. On a work trip to Florida with Rob years back, I almost took my clothes off and ran into the ocean in my underwear. I didn’t. On a family vacation to Oregon, I remained on the sand while counting the heads of our six children and forever calling them to come back…