The Science of Waves
>> Wednesday, August 8, 2012 –
love,
ocean,
outer banks,
waves
At night while lying in bed I could feel the phantom
undertow of the ocean: pull and release, pull and release, pull and release.
We would sleep with the windows open and listen to
the ocean crash in the distance never knowing if the sea would be calm or rough
the next morning and never understanding or questioning why. It simply was. My brothers and I would wake early, eat our
breakfast as quickly as possible, wait the obligatory thirty minutes mandated
by my mother and then run down the boardwalk from our rental beach house and through
the still cool powdery sand.
Hesitating for a moment, one of us would then take
the lead and run headlong into the cold water and the rest would follow. We would float in the sea like bell buoys
occasionally shouting out “This one looks like a good one!” and quickly paddle
either towards or away from the wave. If it turned out to be promising we would
turn towards shore and swim to catch the swell and ride on top of it, millions
of tiny air bubbles fizzing around us. The excitement of the ride was tempered by the
realization that a wave could suddenly become too strong and plunge us
underwater rolling us head over heels along the sandy bottom and causing us to
inhale the burning salty water through our noses. And so as a child, I became the ocean’s
flotsam and jetsam for a week every summer on the outer banks of North
Carolina.
One of the last visits to the beach with my father stretched
from one week to two. His intent was to
shield us from the wave of publicity back home surrounding his disbarment as an
attorney. Just as I could not see the
wave behind the current one, I did not see the financial ruin of our family on
the horizon and my father’s name splashed across the newspapers.
I did not know or understand the science of waves as
a child. That a disturbance created by
the air brushing against the water from as far away as one thousand miles could
create a wave that I could not see until it threatened to topple me.
When I became a father I tried to teach my girls how
to ride the waves. When they were little, I would pick them up and hold them
close as we ventured into the water.
They trusted me then, as I used to trust my father to never let go.
But a wave is circular. It wants to return and if you are not
prepared the undertow created can pull your feet from under you and with your
arms so full it can be impossible to maintain your balance.
My beautiful daughters are college age now and looking down
from the crest of a wave in the same ocean I see that they have survived; best
to stop pulling them towards me now and learn how to release.