Brigantine Summer

I was seventeen in the summer of 1980, hanging out around Atlantic City and Brigantine Island. It was the sort of summer that blurred the days together so time seemed distorted and unimportant. It was a time of surf, sand and summer fun!

But one day shook me up and stripped away the innocence of that time. Death was swimming out in the beautiful waters, beneath the seemingly serene surface. It wasn't embodied within a dark creature of the deep, but in the very waves that called so softly, like a siren's song to come play in the cool clear waters...

The sign at the boardwalk stairs said "No lifeguard on Duty. Swim at your own Risk." But being an experienced swimmer, I merely glanced at it. If only more parents would pay attention to the importance of a skilled lifeguard on duty. If they did, there would be no tale to tell. Frankly, I would wish that the events had not happened, but I do hope that the impression left upon the others involved in my story was as profound and life changing as it was to me.

The beach was perfect, the sand not too hot and the water not too cold, the perfect elements for a great day. I lay out my blanket and tossed my things onto it. I'd purchased a new one piece that I thought was quite fetching. The low cut back, the thin straps, the fancy elastic belt to spice up the purple and white with a bit of black. My sun bleached blond hair was secured in a braided ponytail. I was eager to enjoy the tingle of cool salt water and headed in. On hindsight, I recall a few scattered patrons laying out on their claimed bits of sand; a few colorful patches here and there against the tawny beach. I'd heard the laughter of children too, but it had all been white noise to me, the normal background of shore life. It blended easily with the crying of the gulls, the swoosh of the waves washing upon the sand and the distant murmur and music of the boardwalk.

At first I knew no danger, the pleasure of cutting through the water, diving down and just enjoying myself filled my senses. But if you've been around water long enough, there is a sense of something being wrong that starts to pull at you. Those little red flags started flashing like crazy and made me stop to get my bearings. The beach seemed a bit farther away than I'd thought it had been and that made me start taking notice. The first thing that I realized was that I was a heck of a lot closer to the boardwalk's amusement pier! My beach towel was nearly forty yards away down the beach and as I drifted, treading water I felt the cool pull of the water below me. That slight chill to the water as you enter the deeper parts - it was this I'd realized that had made my senses scream a warning. I'd been tricked by the riptide! Far below the currents were pulling and moving and I was just a fool bobbing on top, slowly being washed out to sea. I realized if I didn't get back to shore, if I past under the pier which was the only thing between me and the open sea. The only way I'd survive was if I grew some gills - fast!

It wasn't easy to stay calm; but knowing what I was facing helped me plan my next move. Fighting the current and trying to head straight for the beach was out of the question. I'd wear myself out and drown before I got half way to shore. But angling myself to swim towards the beach with the upper currents would take me under the pier. As much as I hated to admit it, that way would allow me to reach land. As I got closer to the pier, I got a real close look at the pillars that hold it up. Slimy, crusted with mollusks and other crustations and algae. But I rode the waves slowly back to shore, keeping the pillars between me and the open sea. Images of newspaper stories filled my head. "Unknown female found on beach, believed drowned." and worse. That made me mad, I was not going to be a statistic! I gathered my strength and focused harder on getting back to the beach. Eventually, I got to shallow waters and was able to walk out from under the pier. I felt elated and glad that I'd made it out of the ordeal in one piece. But my joy and relief was short lived.

I heard voices, the faint cries of young girls. I turned and looked out at the water and saw something that chilled my blood more than the icy waters I'd just left had. Two girls, looking to be about ten or so were struggling in the water. If they hadn't been so near I never would have heard them. Worse, a third girl was caught up in the riptide's pull; being carried out further out towards the breakers. Even I had not gone out as far as that!

The breakers added a whole new danger to the situation. You see, at the far end of the pier there had once been a stairway down to a small landing. People could bring a small fishing boat up to it. Some even crabbed off of it. But a bad storm had shattered the stairs, tearing the lower half away and the small landing was gone, leaving nothing behind but broken up pillars that pierced the waters. The city or someone should have cleared that death trap away. But it lay right on the edge of the breakwaters and the young girl was drifting far too close to them. If I didn't act, the girls may go under and their friend could get tossed upon those broken pilings and turned into human chum!

I don't remember making the decision, I just knew that within moments of seeing the girls, I was back in the water. I angled my path the best I could to intercept them, fighting to stay on the safer side of the pier and letting them come to me. I called to them, telling them to let the current bring them to me. I called out that I'd help them. I don't know if they heard me. But they did reach me eventually, very scared and starting to panic. I had to get them to understand how serious their situation was. I didn't want to frighten them too much, but they had to listen to me if they were going to live.

"Quiet! Now unless you can breath underwater you need to do exactly what I say. Understand?" They nodded. But when I got them to the pillars beneath the pier they didn't want to touch them. They whined and squirmed, complaining about touching the waterlogged, slimy, barnacle encrusted wood. "You either grab ahold of it when I tell you or your fish food! Got it!" Surprisingly, they shut up. Still sniffling they at least listened and did as I told them.

Slowly, but with more speed than I expected, by following my example, I got them to shallow water in a short time. My mind was whirling a thousand miles an hour, trying to calculate the survival chances of the other girl, while I was busy with these two. I pleaded in my mind for her to miss the broken pilings and be safe under the pier. Once the girls were on shore I turned away. They asked about their friend and I looked at them sternly. They pulled back a bit. I didn't have time, this may have been too much for them to understand. But I was serious about going back into that water to go after her. "Stay put! I'll get her." It was a statement, not a promise.

I know I had talked to them while we made our way from pillar to pillar, but I've no memory or even an any idea what I said to them. My thoughts had been elsewhere as my body tended to the methodical task of getting to shore. All the time I was thinking about the other girl; the one all alone in those chilling waters. She'd find no mercy and no comfort out there. The deep waters of the ocean care little for those that are foolish enough to test them. I knew the heart of the deep ocean, it was not a warm one. Just as the waters chill the deeper you go, the icy grip seeks to crush the life from you. This was no place for anyone alone, but it was even worse for a child.

I could feel my body tiring, but thankfully the adrenaline was still pumping. I had to stay mad, it was the fuel I needed to go after her. There was no one else around to help her out here. For a seventeen year old, I was still running on a first person perspective, not the big picture outlook of an adult. I was here, she needed help - there was no time to question the right or wrong of it. Or the fact that my actions could drown us both. That viewpoint is uniquely part of childhood; few keep it once they become adults. The flurry of possible consequences of my choice didn't exist in my mind then. I knew that something was wrong and acted on what I felt was right. Simple. A flip of a coin that could offer life or give death. But I wasn't the kind that gave in without a fight.

I started to get warning signs from all around me, almost as soon as I got into deeper water. Without the girls to distract me, I started noticing that the tide was coming in. The water was rising higher, the waves were getting bigger, rising higher and dipping lower. Under the pier I got dunked over and over as the waves went over me instead of by me. I needed to stay in the lull to slip out further and further, keeping between the center supporting pillars. Thankfully they seemed closer at one point, I knew there were buildings on the pier, but I couldn't recall how close to the end of the pier they were. I glanced to the side at the broken pilings as I came near, the dark rotting wood jagged, rising up like broken teeth. The water was starting to hide them making them even more deadly. I didn't want to see her there, I refused to accept that I'd struggled all this way to be too late!

Then ahead I saw her! She was high on one of the pillars near the end up out of the water. She must have rode one of the bigger waves up there. She had her legs wrapped around it and clung there like a barnacle herself. Her eyes were closed tight and she was shaking. I felt my limbs growing heavy and knew that I was almost burned out myself. I was feeling waterlogged and the adrenaline rush was fading. She would have to come to me, there was no way I could reach her. I hoped she wasn't in shock, cause if she couldn't help herself and get down, we'd be in more trouble.

As the height of the waves increased the urgency of the situation, I called out to her. If the waves got much higher it would be even harder to get to the shore. We'd be bashed about under the pier like toy boats caught in a storm. The power of the larger waves would be too much. I called out to her, over and over. My throat felt horse by the time she finally responded. I don't recall exactly what I said; I don't even remember how she got down. But she was soon beside me hanging on tight. Her face showed fear and that she understood the danger we were both in.

"We need to ride the waves fast before the water gets any higher." I could see the panic rise in her eyes and I didn't really know how much of what I said she understood at that moment. "Hold onto my belt and put your arm out, ride the waves like your surfing. Keep your body stiff and let it carry you like a surfboard. I'll do the rest, okay?" She nodded and we started off awkwardly towards the shore. I tried not to let the distance chill me, but a lump of ice began to form in my chest.

Somehow, we got through the first couple of waves, with me bashing my side into the pillars to keep us from drifting too far. I had to keep us under the pier, I couldn't let us get to close to the far outside pilings. I got cut by the sharp growths and such on the pillars. The salt water stung my legs, arms and side. I knew that the cuts would bleed some before the salt stopped it. The thoughts of blood in the water made me fumble some as we continued ever forward.

A part of me realized that if she'd been clinging to that pillar for long, she most likely had cuts on her legs and arms too. Blood in the water was not something I wanted to focus on. So I push even harder to put more distance between us and the vast ocean behind us. I had to get us closer to the shore, that determination gave me a bit of renewed strength. If we were bleeding too much, it could bring some deadly attention that I was in no shape to deal with at the time.

I could tell suddenly that she was tiring, just as my own body was failing me. The waves were now washing over us far faster than we were able to ride them. I kept hold of her at first, but then I realized that if we were going to get out of this I had to move faster. Holding onto her was slowing us both down. If I could get her to find the strength to hang on, there was a chance I could close the distance. But how long could either of us last, would we be able to hang on long enough...

"We're almost there, we're close, but the water's getting stronger. I need you to hold on tight to me and don't let go. Okay?" She nodded. But I could feel her shaking really bad. She gripped the belt, trusting me. The beach wasn't far, but it felt like it would take forever to get there. My shoulders hurt, my legs were cramping and that cold stone in my chest hurt bad. It felt like the chilly water was seeping into my bones. A small voice inside said to give up, right then I felt so stiff and beaten up I almost wanted to. But I could feel the girl leaning against me, counting on me. Her friends waiting for me to bring her back to them. I've never been one to give up without a fight. That voice inside made me angry. I wasn't going to stop fighting! I was going to do what I said I would do.

I pushed myself upward into a rising wave to meet the head of the it and let it pull us through the water. We were rising up a lot higher than before, but I also noticed the waves were getting longer too. So I focused on using each one to get us closer and closer to the shore. My mind and body were on automatic, the rhythm of the waves and the steady pain of muscles my only true focus. Her weight against me kept me pushing ever forward. Then I suddenly felt sand below my feet and was jolted out of that strange place I'd been in. Sound was suddenly loud and all around me as if I'd been deaf for a while. We both stumbled forward, falling as the other two girls came running over to help their friend get higher up the beach.

They had stayed beneath the pier, waiting for me to bring her back. As I looked over, all three girls huddled together, hugging one another. I lay there exhausted, I felt like I could just pass out right there. I could hear the music from the haunted castle above, the sea gulls and the waves too. I didn't want to move, but I had to get out of there. I couldn't stand listening to the water lapping at me, so close. I'd had my fill of the sea and wanted to get away from it. The icy feeling still clung to me like the salt, salt that was beginning to burn my cuts. My mind only now hinting at some of the ways things could have gone wrong out there.

I don't know where I found the energy to do it, but I found it somewhere. Maybe it was the stinging, maybe it was the sand that felt like it was scrapping me. What ever did it got me moving. I stood up and took notice of the cuts on my arms and legs, they were welting up, white from the saltwater. I now had a few rips in my new suit, knowing that I'd find more saltwater soaked injuries beneath. I went over to the girls and scolded them softly. I told them how lucky they'd been and to never go into the water without an adult or at least to make sure a lifeguard was around. At least I think it was something like that, I hope it was something like that. Then I noticed the one girl's white welted cuts on her legs and arms. It was like a switch, somehow all the anger and frustration just flowed out of me. The adrenaline had kicked in, but what had fueled it left. It seems all a haze at times, but the emotions are still very vivid.

We all walked out from under the pier into the sunshine, me out front and the girls in a group close together. It was like escaping from a nightmare and stepping into a beautiful dream. I walked further away from them, the three girls still clung to one another, in a huddle they slowly walked along whispering. The one I rescued last was in the middle, she was still shaking a bit. The other two leaning in close to her as they walked, warming and comforting her.

They'd been and were complete strangers to me, just three girls I could have left behind in the water as I ran to get help. But would they all be alive right now if I'd done that? I realized that I could have died trying to save them. At that moment I too got a bit shaky and felt very disconnected, like I was floating somewhere else. I'd never felt like that before. A bit like when you take cold medicine, only a lot worse. I looked back, watching them as they walked slowly across the sand. It was as if they were afraid to let each other go. I wondered if they would ever tell anyone about what happened; then I turned away...

Somehow I finally found my beach towel again, picked up my things and headed up to the boardwalk. I didn't look back again; I just let the waves of people pass around me as I walked. I was alive and yet it took a while to shake that dark chill from my body. It wasn't a physical cold, it was the kind you feel when you've brushed against death. It's there deep inside, a dark ice that whispers the "what ifs" that could have happened. Unfortunately, I was going to feel it again, but that's a story for another time.

I don't know what happened to those girls, I don't know if they took to heart the close brush with death that we all had. I only know that I was tired...I wanted a strawberry chocolate shake and someplace to lay down for a while. I also didn't find the water quite so enticing after that...I chose to wait a good while before I even took a dip in a friend's pool. It was like my spirit was waterlogged. I sought out the sun as if trying to dry the dampness out of me.

It's been thirty summers since then, much of the event is still clear as crystal in my memory. Other things are not so clear. Surprisingly I recall the girls all had dark hair, but when hair is wet it tends to look dark. They were young, too young to have that kind of experience strip away the innocence of their years. Even I was too young at seventeen to face death on terms not my own.

But I hope to this day, that they took the lesson they learned very serious and respected the dangers of the sea. This accounting has been an attempt to purge this from my dark nightmares. Now that I've put it down, hopefully I can put to rest the nagging fears that have haunted me. The fear of what could have happened to us all...