My Day At the Ocean

Every year, my parents took us on a one week vacation to Hampton Beach, N.H. We usually rented the same little cottage every year, located about two blocks from the ocean. It was especially exciting for my siblings and I, because we knew that we would soon see our summer friends in the other cottages, as well. I predictably couldn't sleep the night before, knowing we had to get up really early to leave. The drive: now picture this, 4 children in the back seat, each fighting for the window or the middle. Prime seats for a 4-5 hour drive. More pit stops then a race car, and every 15 minutes "Are we there yet?" I really don't know how my parents did it year after year. I always knew when we were getting close, though, by the frequency of the of pools of salt water and streams all running to the ocean. And the smell!! Oh, how I loved the fresh, briny smell of the sea. You could hear the call of gulls as they flew above, relentlessly in search of food dropped by careless tourists. If you held a piece of food in your hand, and then over your head, they would quickly swoop down and snatch the food right out of your hand!

When we got there, it seemed like it took forever before my parents were ready to go down to the ocean. My two brothers and sister and I just couldn't WAIT to get our hot feet in the cold waters of the Atlantic.Though it seemed as if the water never got above 58 degrees, that never stopped the four of us from jumping in immediately. After the initial shock of the frigid ocean, my parents were hard pressed to get us out. I loved the way the sea felt, as you stood on the sand where the tide met the shore, pulled the sand out from beneath our feet. It felt delicious. I used to love to run as fast as I could on the beach, right where the water left the sand looking wet and smooth as wind-worn pebbles as it made it's way back to the sea.

Low tide! Bring a bag, cause you never know what the ocean can toss up on the beach for some lucky child to find. A shell, or a starfish or maybe a beautiful rock. Low tide pools, left on the beach when the tide went out, were like little treasure coves to me. I would bring a bag to collect whatever treasures the Atlantic Ocean left behind on her journey back out to sea. And oh, the treasures I would find! Incredible Sand dollars or the strange site of a living Starfish.

I remember literally losing myself for hours just hunting for cool things to bring back home with me. Most of the time, while other kids were begging to get souvenirs from the boardwalk shops, I was happy on the shore collecting rocks and shells. With the spray from the ocean waves hitting my face and the salty breeze making my red hair damp and curly, I would often time come back with barnacle scraped legs and a mean sunburn on my fair skin. Back then, not too much attention was given to the sun's damaging UV rays, and sunscreen was rarely used.

Another favorite activity of mine was fishing with my step dad. On one particular trip, he had just purchased all new fishing gear. New poles, a tackle box that would make any fisherman green with envy, and a big container of live bait. We would journey out onto the boulders that took us farther into deep water. He wanted to catch the "Big One". Now, making our way out there was no easy task. Especially carrying our fishing gear. Carefully choosing your step as to not fall into the ocean was not an easy feat. The rocks were slippery in places, and if you fell, could seriously cut yourself on the razor sharp barnacles that covered some of the rocks.

Seldom do people realize that these crusty, little lumps, peppered over boulders and rusty anchors and waterlogged piers, are just a bunch of incredibly bizarre bugs. Crustaceans, specifically, just like crabs, lobsters and shrimp. When you fall on them, they HURT, and they are sharp as heck. So we walked, crawled and carefully made our way out to the point where the boulders ended out into the sea and set up our fishing gear. My dads new tackle box gleaming brightly in the sun, we chose out of a multitude of different lures. Holographic rigs, spoons and squid skirts, shiny multicolored worms, and tube tails, it was hard choosing.

I chose a colorful spinner, and worked to hook it up to my pole. The ocean was choppy and rough that day, with a stiff breeze and cloudy skies. As my dad worked to get his pole in casting order, the unmentionable happened. Now, mind you, my dad was not cheap when it came to his fishing box and poles. After all, he was in the business of catching a fish! A really BIG fish! But all his hopes and dreams of getting that big one ended on that day by one thing. A rogue wave. This wave must have been sent by Neptune himself, such was the size of it. I watched as it came, swelling to a monstrous size, my dad yelling out to hang on to whatever boulder I could. It crashed over us like a sledgehammer, and hanging on for dear life, I screamed as it came. Digging my fingers into the boulders I was attached to, the wave tried it's best to dislodge me. I tasted the salt water in my mouth as it poured over us, and when it was gone, breathed a sigh of relief.

I looked over at my dad and saw a horrible sight. My dad was standing there stiffly, strangely quiet. And then I saw.. nothing.Every last bit of his brand, new fishing gear, was gone. His pole, his tackle box, all swept away by the wave. I shuddered and stuttered, "D-d-dad?" Are you ok?" He turned to me then and I saw that he had tears in eyes. My dad, a grown man, the same man that got up at 4:30 every morning to go work everyday, the same guy who taught me to throw a perfect spiral football, was crying.... I didn't know what to do! How do you console a man who had just lost all of his brand new fishing gear? "I'm sorry, dad," and even that sounded lame to my ears. He just nodded, eyes shiny with tears, and we headed back to the cottage in defeat, with nothing to even put on the dinner table for all our efforts.

Despite the fishing incident, I will never forget the good times I had there, spinning memories of childhood laughter and adventures with friends and family. Hopefully I get to take my daughter there so she, too, can marvel at the sea.