Weird things...
I have this issue. I've had this issue for a long time, but it always seems to come at me about this time of year more than other times of the year, I think mostly because it's warming up nicely in the South, and people start to go beach crazy (that's another item for discussion). For me though, I have this firm belief and or fear that there are weird things swimming around in the ocean, and they're going to get me if I swim in said ocean with them.
I'm not sure where this innate fear stems from. As a kid, I never spent a lot of time at the beach, well, make that I never spent any time at the beach, and when you live in Maine, it's very seldom that the water warms up enough in the ocean to actually swim in it. I do remember being in the ocean though, and feeling the tide moving me around, the seaweed floating around me, and then something bumping into me. I'm sure it was just a small little fish or something, but that freaked me out (as it would just about any 10-11 year old kid), and I bolted out of the water. Now, bolting out of the water for a plump overweight pasty white kid from Maine was something all and of itself, but I ran like I had never run before, and by that, I mean fast. I went back into the water later on in the day if I remember correctly, but somewhere in the back of my head, that little incident festered into a psychological scar that I carry with me to this day. Maybe this is why I don't like the beach so much. No, there are other reasons for that (some of which we'll get into at some point in time). Fast forward to the year 1997. Location, Myrtle Beach, SC. I'm walking along the beach with a woman who would become my fiance, and then later break things off with me (again, another story), and we came across a sign posted in the sand by some sort of local authority. It said something about sharks being in the area of the beach, and that there have been sightings, but no attacks as far as they could tell thus far, so it should be "safe" to be in the water, just be aware of what's going on around you. OK... Sharks. Water. I won't be going into that puddle of water known as the Atlantic Ocean during this trip. In order to reinforce the sign in the back of my mind, as we continue walking down the beach, we see a rather large fish, which has been bitten completely in half, and is now laying on the sand on the beach. Large teeth marks are prevalent where this fish has been bitten in half and eaten. This fish is about the size of my 2 legs if they were put together. Now, I don't know what bit this fish in half, but chances are good, it's something I don't want to run into while swimming in the ocean, splish splashing about without a care in the world. Without a care in the world that is, until... CHOMP! Something bites your frigin' leg off. So now we have 2 strikes against the ocean on this one trip. A sign warning of sharks and a large fish decomposing on the sand (the smell was incredible, and by incredible I mean awful) that had been clamped down in a vice like set of teeth and mangled. Strike 3 came later on in the day, when I was standing in the water near the shoreline, when the future fiance/girl who dumped me, came running out of the water like an American sprinter on steroids. Something had just bumped into her while she was out swimming. Once again, probably was nothing, but let's not take chances. We spent the rest of that vacation on the sand drinking cocktails, and ignoring the call of the water. Which for her was a sort of dicey thing because she was a competitive swimmer who claimed to like swimming in the open water of the ocean, but she wasn't going back in. If she wasn't going back in, neither was I. To Hell with that one.
There are weird things that swim around in the ocean. You're always seeing something strange getting pulled up in some fisherman's net somewhere around the world, and what's to keep those weird things from coming to get me if I choose to swim in the ocean? Umm, nothing could prevent such a take down. The ocean is also vast and expansive, and I'm certain there are things floating around in the ocean that we'll never know about and will go undiscovered, but that doesn't mean they can't "get you" while you're in their territory. Lakes, ponds, and rivers are a different story for me. Maybe I just have something completely against salt water, but get me near a clean and clear lake, pond, or a river, and I'll swim without a second thought. In North Carolina though, most of the freshwater bodies of water though are either polluted so much that you can't swim in them (lots of rivers), or the lakes are manmade, meaning dam lakes, and the water looks like chocolate milk. So most of the time, I save my freshwater swimming for when I go home to Maine where there are actually still a lot of pristine waters to swim in, or if I happen to know someone who happens to have a pool either in their apartment complex or at their house. It's funny because as a kid, I couldn't be torn away from the water. I spent summers either in my Aunt and Uncle's pool, or in the river up the street from my house. I miss the days where I could leave my parent's house on my BMX bike, ride up the road about a mile, and be at the first of many swimming holes on Route 17. Good stuff. It was a good way to kill a summer when you were old enough to do what you wanted to do during the day, but not old enough to actually get a job. Being, say, 12-15 years old, those were prime years of fun.
Going back this beach thing though. People in NC are beach crazy. By beach crazy, I mean this seems to be the only place where they are willing to go on vacation. If you ask someone around here what they're going to do for a vacation this year, the common response is (and this is given with a look of disdain and hurt like you should know the answer already), "We're going to the beach for a week or so." This would be my personal Hell. I get bored at the beach. So there is sand, water, and wind. That's about it. There's no action at the beach, nothing goes on at the beach. Sure you could throw a frisbee or something like that, and by the time the end of the day rolls around you've been in too much sun and water to want to go out and do anything, so you sit at home, and sleep. And repeat, day after day until you go home. As I mentioned, nightmare. Then again, my idea of a vacation would make people want to cry. For instance. My vacation this year will see me flying to the great State of Wisconsin to race my bicycle for a period of 10 days. Vacation for me, not so much for other people I'm sure. People look at me weird when I tell them this is what I'm going to do with my time off. This is not to say that I'm completely and totally anti-beach. I'm just anti North Carolina beach for the most part. I could go there anytime. If I'm going to go to a beach, it's going to have to be in the Caribbean, or somewhere that's actually exotic, as opposed to something like Myrtle Beach that's just an oversized tourist trap where you can get cheap t-shirts and lots of traffic. Hawaii would be OK as well, as would something in like Southern France, or like I said, somewhere exotic and mysterious, and different. Also, it has to be quiet for the most part. If I'm on vacation, the last thing I'm going to want to do is get caught in traffic, and have to eat at Planet Hollywood or some other chain novelty eatery. I want peace, and serenity. Not so much to ask for is it?
I'm not sure where this innate fear stems from. As a kid, I never spent a lot of time at the beach, well, make that I never spent any time at the beach, and when you live in Maine, it's very seldom that the water warms up enough in the ocean to actually swim in it. I do remember being in the ocean though, and feeling the tide moving me around, the seaweed floating around me, and then something bumping into me. I'm sure it was just a small little fish or something, but that freaked me out (as it would just about any 10-11 year old kid), and I bolted out of the water. Now, bolting out of the water for a plump overweight pasty white kid from Maine was something all and of itself, but I ran like I had never run before, and by that, I mean fast. I went back into the water later on in the day if I remember correctly, but somewhere in the back of my head, that little incident festered into a psychological scar that I carry with me to this day. Maybe this is why I don't like the beach so much. No, there are other reasons for that (some of which we'll get into at some point in time). Fast forward to the year 1997. Location, Myrtle Beach, SC. I'm walking along the beach with a woman who would become my fiance, and then later break things off with me (again, another story), and we came across a sign posted in the sand by some sort of local authority. It said something about sharks being in the area of the beach, and that there have been sightings, but no attacks as far as they could tell thus far, so it should be "safe" to be in the water, just be aware of what's going on around you. OK... Sharks. Water. I won't be going into that puddle of water known as the Atlantic Ocean during this trip. In order to reinforce the sign in the back of my mind, as we continue walking down the beach, we see a rather large fish, which has been bitten completely in half, and is now laying on the sand on the beach. Large teeth marks are prevalent where this fish has been bitten in half and eaten. This fish is about the size of my 2 legs if they were put together. Now, I don't know what bit this fish in half, but chances are good, it's something I don't want to run into while swimming in the ocean, splish splashing about without a care in the world. Without a care in the world that is, until... CHOMP! Something bites your frigin' leg off. So now we have 2 strikes against the ocean on this one trip. A sign warning of sharks and a large fish decomposing on the sand (the smell was incredible, and by incredible I mean awful) that had been clamped down in a vice like set of teeth and mangled. Strike 3 came later on in the day, when I was standing in the water near the shoreline, when the future fiance/girl who dumped me, came running out of the water like an American sprinter on steroids. Something had just bumped into her while she was out swimming. Once again, probably was nothing, but let's not take chances. We spent the rest of that vacation on the sand drinking cocktails, and ignoring the call of the water. Which for her was a sort of dicey thing because she was a competitive swimmer who claimed to like swimming in the open water of the ocean, but she wasn't going back in. If she wasn't going back in, neither was I. To Hell with that one.
There are weird things that swim around in the ocean. You're always seeing something strange getting pulled up in some fisherman's net somewhere around the world, and what's to keep those weird things from coming to get me if I choose to swim in the ocean? Umm, nothing could prevent such a take down. The ocean is also vast and expansive, and I'm certain there are things floating around in the ocean that we'll never know about and will go undiscovered, but that doesn't mean they can't "get you" while you're in their territory. Lakes, ponds, and rivers are a different story for me. Maybe I just have something completely against salt water, but get me near a clean and clear lake, pond, or a river, and I'll swim without a second thought. In North Carolina though, most of the freshwater bodies of water though are either polluted so much that you can't swim in them (lots of rivers), or the lakes are manmade, meaning dam lakes, and the water looks like chocolate milk. So most of the time, I save my freshwater swimming for when I go home to Maine where there are actually still a lot of pristine waters to swim in, or if I happen to know someone who happens to have a pool either in their apartment complex or at their house. It's funny because as a kid, I couldn't be torn away from the water. I spent summers either in my Aunt and Uncle's pool, or in the river up the street from my house. I miss the days where I could leave my parent's house on my BMX bike, ride up the road about a mile, and be at the first of many swimming holes on Route 17. Good stuff. It was a good way to kill a summer when you were old enough to do what you wanted to do during the day, but not old enough to actually get a job. Being, say, 12-15 years old, those were prime years of fun.
Going back this beach thing though. People in NC are beach crazy. By beach crazy, I mean this seems to be the only place where they are willing to go on vacation. If you ask someone around here what they're going to do for a vacation this year, the common response is (and this is given with a look of disdain and hurt like you should know the answer already), "We're going to the beach for a week or so." This would be my personal Hell. I get bored at the beach. So there is sand, water, and wind. That's about it. There's no action at the beach, nothing goes on at the beach. Sure you could throw a frisbee or something like that, and by the time the end of the day rolls around you've been in too much sun and water to want to go out and do anything, so you sit at home, and sleep. And repeat, day after day until you go home. As I mentioned, nightmare. Then again, my idea of a vacation would make people want to cry. For instance. My vacation this year will see me flying to the great State of Wisconsin to race my bicycle for a period of 10 days. Vacation for me, not so much for other people I'm sure. People look at me weird when I tell them this is what I'm going to do with my time off. This is not to say that I'm completely and totally anti-beach. I'm just anti North Carolina beach for the most part. I could go there anytime. If I'm going to go to a beach, it's going to have to be in the Caribbean, or somewhere that's actually exotic, as opposed to something like Myrtle Beach that's just an oversized tourist trap where you can get cheap t-shirts and lots of traffic. Hawaii would be OK as well, as would something in like Southern France, or like I said, somewhere exotic and mysterious, and different. Also, it has to be quiet for the most part. If I'm on vacation, the last thing I'm going to want to do is get caught in traffic, and have to eat at Planet Hollywood or some other chain novelty eatery. I want peace, and serenity. Not so much to ask for is it?
posted by giantcu92 @ 7:23 AM
2 comments
2 Comments:
I am relieved to read that you followed the "my ideal vacation is riding my bike at top speeds around WI for ten days" statement with "I would also enjoy going to the South of France or the Caribbean." If you hadn't, I foresaw many a woeful discussion regarding shared time off from work.
And for the record, more people sustained serious injuries in car v. bike accidents than from being attacked by "sea creatures" in the past 10 years by a factor of 15. (ReferenceUSA database)
Dear S.O.
Fear.....is NOT logical.
Big sister.
Post a Comment
<< Home