Showing posts with label sea. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sea. Show all posts

Monday, October 14, 2024

Never Forget the Power that Ocean Holds

"Make sure there's always other people around when you go swimming".  "Never swim alone". "Don't go in water over your head". "Stay close to the lifeguards".  "Don't swim at sunset".  These are just some of the warnings I've heard over the years from people who showed their concern at my habits of doing all of the above despite promising I wouldn't. White lies, I tell myself.  Just little white lies to keep them quiet and from worrying unnecessarily.  After all, I'm a good swimmer and I'm always aware of my surroundings.  

Yes, I try to make sure there are other people around when I swim but that's not always possible.  Sometimes I end up heading to the beach alone because no one else feels like going and I'm not one to pass up opportunities just because I have no one to go with.  And later in the season, there are few people at the beach because everyone is back to school or work and the air is cooler.   I rarely go in water over my head but if the water is clear and calm, sometimes I'm enticed to go further out to explore the depths with my mask and snorkel. And swimming at sunset?  Well, that's my favourite time to swim!

I've always heard the stories about Inverness Beach and some of the other nearby beaches along the northwestern coast of Cape Breton.  Stories about the riptides and strong currents and about how many people have drowned in the area over the years. It wasn't that I didn't believe the stories; I just never witnessed conditions bad enough to warrant much concern any time I swam there. That is until July 27th, 2024.  That day turned out to be one I'll never forget and one that changed the way I feel about the ocean forever.  

That day started like any other beach day.  I picked up a friend and we drove the 2.5 hours to Inverness Beach.  I choose my days wisely when I know I will driving that distance.  I make sure the forecast calls for plenty of sun, warm temperatures and light winds.  I picked a good one.   

For most of the afternoon, we alternated our time between swimming and sunbathing on the beach. I swam in water just over my head with no issues.  Everything was good, it was a perfect day.  

At around 4 O'clock, we went for a long walk down the beach to dry off and headed to Cheticamp for something to eat with the intention of returning to the beach in time for one last sunset swim before heading home.  

We walked onto the beach near the canteen and instead of walking further down the beach like I usually did, I decided to just swim right there. Just before sunset, I entered the water for my final swim of the day.  The water was still calm and clear and the sun was starting it's descent into the horizon.  About a dozen people were still in the water and all was well.    No one else was in the water right where I was but there were people all around, both on the beach and in the water nearby. 

My friend stayed on the beach this time to take pictures and catch up on some messages she got throughout the day.  I slipped into the warm water and when I got waist-deep, I swam for a bit in the fading beam of sunlight that stretched from the horizon to the beach.  After a few minutes, I switched to floating on my back.  I remember it being so calm and relaxing in those last few moments before the chaos.

I was only floating like that for maybe two minutes and in a matter of seconds, my relaxing sunset swim turned into a fight for my life. When I tried to stand up, I was in water over my head the shore was getting further and further away.  I tried to swim but to no avail.  I was being pulled into deeper water.  Then it hit me; I was in a riptide.  My first reaction was panic.  I frantically tried to swim harder and harder and instead of getting closer to shore, I was pulled underwater.  I remember advice giving to me in the past; if you find yourself in a rip current, DON'T PANIC!  I regained my composure but knew I needed help.  I waved my hands in the air and yelled "HELP".  I could see everyone on the beach but no one was looking my way.  No one on the beach saw my waving and no one heard my desperate call for help.  I was on my own and had to act fast.  

As if by some miracle, my foot found a large rock.  I wrapped my ankles around as best as I could and held on for dear life while I tried to regain my strength for one last attempt to get myself out of that raging current. When I felt ready, I used all my strength to propel myself toward the beach using the rock.  I swam as hard as I could, using both arms and legs and all the energy I had left.  Finally, I was back in water shallow enough to stand up and walk the last few feet to shore. The whole ordeal felt like an eternity but was just minutes, if that.  That's how quickly I could have been swept out into the open ocean and never seen again. When I reached the water's edge, I collapsed in the sand, choking and crying.  My friend raced to me to see what was wrong.  She hadn't seen a thing but she saw the terror in my eyes and knew that I had just been through a harrowing experience. 

For days after that incident, I couldn't get my mind of it.  All I could think about was how close I was to drowning and how lucky I was to be still alive.  I noticed myself feeling grateful towards everything.  Even small things - like a relaxing walk, my morning coffee with Dad, a hot meal - were given more thought than usual.  And let me tell you, was I ever grateful to see that beautiful sunrise that morning.  And as I sat silently and watched the sun rise over the bay and the sky turn all sorts of vibrants colors I couldn't shake the thought that I almost never got to see the sunrise again. 

I went for a swim at the beach close to my house a few days after the incident in Inverness and found myself looking at the ocean differently.  I didn't hate it or blame it for nearly claiming me; I just had a newfound respect for the power it held and how quickly it could turn a leisurely swim into a fight for survival in a matter of seconds. I entered the water slower than usual and as I stood and looked out to the far depths of the Atlantic, that wave of gratitude came over me once again when I thought about how I could have ended up somewhere out there, never to step foot on dry land again. 



Tuesday, July 21, 2020

The Ocean is Never Far Away in Cape Breton

No matter where you go in Cape Breton, you are always less than an hour's drive from the ocean!  It is, after all, a small island.  Whether it be a rocky shore, a sandy beach or high cliffs looking out over the Atlantic, the ocean is very much a part of the scenery here.
One of my favourite ocean views on Cape Breton Island located at Broad Cove Beach near Ingonish.

Saturday, July 11, 2020

Where the Land Meets the Sea

Cape Breton surely is a beautiful place where the rolling hills of The Highlands and rugged coastline meet the Atlantic Ocean.
Hopefully soon, I will be doing one of my favourite road trips in the whole world and heading around The Cabot Trail and enjoying views like this. 

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Dreaming of the Caribbean Sea...Again

My parents loved to travel so naturally, as a child, I developed a need to wonder and see the world beyond my back yard. My travels started with small road trips around Cape Breton and the rest of Nova Scotia and Atlantic Canada and graduated to bigger trips that included one month-long journey along the Eastern Seaboard from Maine to Florida. Over the years my travels brought me on many adventures in central and western Canada, the southwestern United States, Mexico, Cuba and soon Costa Rica and the northwestern United States. I wish I could time travel back to those carefree days.  Lately, I've been wishing I could time travel back to the days I spent on the Caribbean Sea.

Up until two years ago, the Caribbean didn’t really appeal to me unless it was Caribbean flavors in my food or Caribbean music on the radio. I mean, I love beaches and warm weather but the all-inclusive resort vacations full of drinking, eating and partying didn’t sound like much fun to me. I like to drink once and a while, I like to eat and I like a good party from time to time, but wasting hundreds of dollars traveling to a far-flung destination to participate in activities I can do at home was just not what I wanted out of my vacations so I never considered a vacation “down south”. Places like Europe and Asia always appealed to me because I love culture and history and it is so easy to see a variety of different cultures on those continents. Europe with its castles, world-renowned museums and historical sites and Asia with its culture that is so vastly different from my own; these places always made the forefront of my travel aspirations. That all changed when I accepted a last minute invitation to accompany a friend on a trip to the Caribbean and not only was it the Caribbean, it was southern Mexico (the Riviera Maya), a country I was under the impression I should stay away from, not flock to because of all the violence that was supposedly happening in the country.

Because it was my first time traveling to the area and I had only seen pictures of the beautiful Caribbean sea and its white sandy beaches, I really had no idea what to expect when it came to seeing it with my own eyes rather than photoshopped magazine photos. Upon my arrival at the airport in Cancun, I was bombarded with “friendly” and seemingly helpful locals who I learned were only trying to “kipnap” me and take me on an unscheduled detour to try and sell me a timeshare. At least they were friendly about it and backed off when I politely said I was not interested unlike the aggressive salespeople here at home. The real shock came when I finally made it to my destination in Playa Del Carmen and the beach I would be spending the majority of my time on during my stay. Photoshopped or not, those magazine pictures didn’t compare to the real thing. The beaches with their soft, white sand free from seaweed and rocks and the Caribbean Sea with its crystal clear waters were more beautiful then I ever imagined. Combined with the hot temperatures, long sunny days and clear warm nights, I had truly found paradise and discovered what everyone was talking about when they said how magical and otherworldly the Caribbean was. For that week, it was almost like time stopped. The days were long and relaxing and a week felt more like a month. Clocks were never given a second look and the people, visitors and locals alike, seemed to just enjoy living the good life on the beach and were relaxed even while going about their daily chores. And did I mention that I not once wirnessed nor heard of any violent acts happening in the area during my entire stay and I felt 100% safe at all times even when I ventured off alone and took a public bus to Tulum to visit the Mayan Ruins. There were, of course, the Policia Tourista, who strutted around with their menacing, machine-gun looking weapons strapped across their chests so I assumed they needed such devices for a reason. That reason was never made clear to me; I was only told not to do anything that might ruffle their feathers and give them any excuse to use any force and in Mexico, apparently that can mean one of a few things. So this is how it all went down on my first Caribbean vacation. I was hooked. And I vowed to return to that magical place again someday. That someday came the very next spring when I booked a last minute trip to Varadero, Cuba. Same region, same sea but different music, different food and….a completely different world.

So on this chilly, wet and dark Canadian East Coast evening, I am dreaming of the Caribbean Sea and my next trip down south. I’m dreaming of the soft white sand, the warm clear waters, the hot sun, the upbeat people, the sounds of the beautiful Spanish language, the rhythm of steel drums and salsa beats echoing through the alleys, the warm and clear nights spent listening to the surf and the relaxing way of life of a people who take afternoon siesta and their love of life, despite the harsh realities of poverty and certain political unrest, seriously.

Last March I was dreaming of these exact same things when I went online in search of a good deal on a Caribbean vacation. I just wanted to have a look at what was available with no intentions in actually booking a trip. After all, I was between jobs at the time and in the middle of a move from one province to another and money and time was scarce. By the end of my search, I had a 7-night all-inclusive vacation booked. The combination of being hypnotized by the pictures of beautiful beaches and the realization that I had enough points built up to take a vacation were the two main things that did me in. A couple of weeks later, I jetsetted off to one of the Caribbean’s most revered and unique destinations; Cuba – home of some of the planet’s most beautiful beaches, the world’s best cigars, Salsa and the Mojito.

I landed at the airport near Varadero after midnight and was immediately ushered to a shuttle bus that would take me to my home away from home for the next week, Arenas Doradas Beach Resort. It reminded me of when I first landed in Cancun and went through the same routine to get to The Real Playa Del Carmen. I had arrived in Playa to a small and laid back resort with colorful villas and hammocks scattered about the courtyard and was greeted by a friendly and accommodating staff who ensured that I was comfortable and well-taken care of during my entire stay. I assumed I would get the same reception upon my arrival in Varadero but instead I exited the shuttle bus and was greeted with loud and drunk spring break revelers and a worn-out and stressed out staff who seemed as irritated as I was upon arriving at what should have been a relaxing seaside vacation where I could sit pool or beachside during the day and quietly sip a Mojito while reading a good book. The next morning was much of the same. I don’t think those loud-mouthed revelers slept a wink the night before as they were still doing cannonballs in the swimming pool at 9AM, the taps still flowing. I stayed away from that pool for the rest of the week. I knew it was not the locals who were causing the massive disruption to what should be a relaxing holiday; it was mostly people from back home, my home province of Nova Scotia and other Canadian provinces along with a few Australians and Europeans. But the pool was no big loss for me; I traveled all that distance to spend time at the beach and explore the nearby cities of Matanzas and Havana and take a few tours of the countryside where I would get the true Cuban experience. And that is exactly what I did.

The beach was my first experience with the local people besides the frenzied staff at the resort. I was approached numerous times by curious locals who wanted to learn a few English phrases and find out where I came from and why I chose Cuba as my vacation destination. These conversations were never interrupted by cell phone calls, or texts to rush to a business meeting. The people I met were friendly, accommodating and interesting. They held onto my every word and were eager to tell me about their everyday lives. The zest for life I saw in the people I met, the constant smiles and welcoming gestures and positive attitudes was something foreign to me. I barely knew anyone back home I could carry on a decent conversation with (without being interrupted by their stories of what happened to their favorite characters on TV the night before or by a text rudely answered in the middle of a conversation) and you would think it would kill them to crack a smile once and a while. Guess I can’t blame the folks here at home for being a bit crabby. After all, the average Canadian works more than 40 hours a week, has bills and household business to take care of on the weekend along with the other obligations that come with living in our rat-race world (and the fact that we don’t live on the beach 365 days a year). Wash, rinse repeat…over and over again until we retire...if the stress doesn’t kill us first. The people I met in Cuba all had jobs and were well-educated but family, friends and living life each day as it comes was at the forefront of Cuban life. Yes, many Cubans have problems that most Canadians don’t face every day. Poverty, lack of faith in government to make things better and lack of freedom of speech. But what the Cubans do well is take everyday in stride as to not let these adversities stop them from living the one life they have to enjoy. The people up north could learn something from these people down south. And yes, because you ladies who have never ventured to a Latin American country are probably wondering, the men are very forward – but not in the way you may think. I was approached numerous times by very “friendly” men on the beach, in the clubs, on the street and everywhere else that their radar could reach. What may surprise you is, although these men were only looking for one thing, they were always polite, they were never aggressive and they always accepted my firm, but polite “no” to their invitations to go dancing at Tropicana or to take a drive to Havana and get the grand tour from a local. I can’t say the same for some of the men who have approached me here at home. I never had to call the police to report a stalker or physically aggressive, wannabe suitor in Latin America but similar things have happened more times than I can count here. And take “no” for an answer? I don’t think most of the men I meet on my travels up North even understand the word! That being said, I wandered the beach, the streets and the clubs alone at all hours of the day and never felt like I was in any danger at any point during the entire trip…except for some aggressive and very drunk Canadians who tried to throw me in the pool one night on my way back to my villa and some football-crazed Germans who literally forced me to sit with them for hours in front of the lobby TV while they cheered on their team who barely scored a goal the entire time. But despite some of the negative things that transpired during my week in Cuba, I had a spectacular time and the end result was the same; I came back to Canada feeling rejuvenated, refreshed and awakened in more ways than I can count.

Now you understand why I am always dreaming about returning to this very special region in Central America. Here in Cape Breton, the temperatures are hovering at 0 degrees Celcius, the days are getting shorter, the sun will scarcely make an appearance for the next 6 to 8 months, snow will soon blanket the ground and remain there until late April and I’m on my way to work the night shift where I do the same ol’ thing every night at the same time. Wash, rinse, repeat…Well, at least I won’t have to wait too long for my next jaunt down south; It may not be the Caribbean but I will be arriving in San Jose, Costa Rica only a mere five months from now to enjoy a week-long yoga retreat/beach holiday in Montezuma. Yes, only five months…which will probably be the longest five months of my life but the wait will be well worth it when I, once again, set foot on a long sandy beach and plant myself amongst the beach huts and cabanas surrounded by swaying palm trees with a tropical drink in my hand while time stands still and the rat race back home seems like a distant memory of a long-forgotten past life.

Mexico, Cuba and all the other islands and coastlines of central America that border the Caribbean sea: Each and every one has something unique to offer visitors but one thing always holds true once one makes that first journey to the Caribbean; the sand, the sea, and the people will change you and you will forever be dreaming of the next time you will be there again!

So where is the Caribbean? It's a magical place located in the Atlantic Ocean far enough south to be tropical. Which Caribbean island is best for you? I can't answer that for you but I can say that all of the ones I've seen have everything I'm looking for in a great vacation...great food, cultural experiences, friendly people, sandy beaches and nice weather!


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