Alice, Your scary story of the near-death drowning at once reminded me of a 54 year-old event in Kenya.
We often visited the magic spot called Buffalo Springs, only a 40-minute drive from our home on the equator. It is a circular pool, about 15 metres across, fed by an underground spring. The water is gin clear and exactly right for a cooling dip that provides a welcome from the over 30-degree temperatures. Superb Starlings sing their songs in the big flat-topped acacia tree that provides all the shade one needs, and the palm trees and yellow-flowered thorn bushes make it the perfect for a Sunday afternoon picnic and plunge.
One of my veterinary colleagues told us about his terrifying encounter with a crocodile during one of his own family outings. After the first little swim, while the adults were relaxing on the fold-out chairs, their six-year-old son was exploring a nearby reed bed. The next thing his parents heard was a piercing scream. There he was, in the grasp of a croc, being carried off towards the Ewaso Nyiro River, about 400 yards away, where crocodiles are part of the scenery and prey on animals that come to drink.
The father’s reaction was swift, instinctive, and life-saving. He ran to the spot and at once jumped on the animals’ back and dug his fingers into its eyes. The croc at once let go of the child.
I never learned any more about the effects of such an encounter and can only imagine the scars that will surely have lingered for everyone involved.
Life will be a little different for that family from there, onwards. Such things change our perspectives. Control is one of those illusions I seem unable to let go of even though I know the anxiety and worry that goes with it is counterproductive. At the moment I'm reading Not Too Late by Gwendolyn Bounds. I came to a crossroad in my life over the 18 months between July 2022 and the end of 2023, and I'm looking at which road to take next. It's never easy, but it doesn't mean that it's too late!
Thank you for the suggestion, Cate. That sounds like another great read. And yes, you're right, when I saw the daughter afterward, she was clearly feeling that sense of those edges.
What a harrowing experience for all at that beach. Good of you two to rush in and help. The sheer terror that one second can bring to light. I saw that in my life as a trauma OR nurse all the time. One second and how it changes things. Great quotes and thoughts to ponder...what do we and don't we control. How do we bring those actions into light and which actions.
I can only imagine what it might be like to work as a trauma nurse and the moments you see in families' lives. The rest of us forget, I think, quickly, how one second can shift everything.
My son lives near a little beach in Tasmania. Some days they surf there and some days it’s quiet and the kids play in the sand.
I call it “The Beach That Ate Me”.
On one visit, a year or two ago, I was there on my own on a wintery day. The tide was well out, I was wrapped up against the cold wind in my jeans and puffer jacket, walking along the little sandhill on the edge of the beach.
One minute I was bending down to check out a tiny pink flower, and the next I was being tossed onto my back by a giant wave out of nowhere. When I arrived back at the house drenched to the core, and covered in sand, my son’s eyes popped out of his head!
I go to that beach again and again and try to fathom where that wave came from, still have no idea.
But I will never go there alone again! The energy of the ocean is a powerful thing!
Oh my goodness. I'm so, so glad the man was okay. How frightening for his family and everyone who witnessed the incident. I know just what you mean about being reminded that we are in control of so much less than we think. I feel it every time we feel the earth shake or fire licks the mountains out here in California. That liminal space is always closer than we remember.
When we see it in the news, it's so different from when it's happening in front of us. I can only imagine what it's like in California with the fires. In Saskatoon, we have smoky skies in the summers now, reminding us how close nature and those edges are. Thanks for sharing, Maria. xoxox
What a frightening experience for your family! I am so relieved there was a happy ending for the man. Take good care of yourselves. Happy new year to you and to all your family, Alice! ❤️
What a harrowing experience! I am glad to read that the man who nearly drowned is recovering; kudos to Yann and the others who helped save him. As witnesses to these events, the impact may not be felt until later, sometimes at unexpected moments. Take good care of yourself and your family. I hope the rest of your time in Mexico is restful and relaxing!
Thank you, Kiyomi. I always appreciate your kind perspective. We’ve had renewed respect for the ocean and its moods, which has served us well these last few days. It’s easy to forget how strong and deep it is!
Alice, Your scary story of the near-death drowning at once reminded me of a 54 year-old event in Kenya.
We often visited the magic spot called Buffalo Springs, only a 40-minute drive from our home on the equator. It is a circular pool, about 15 metres across, fed by an underground spring. The water is gin clear and exactly right for a cooling dip that provides a welcome from the over 30-degree temperatures. Superb Starlings sing their songs in the big flat-topped acacia tree that provides all the shade one needs, and the palm trees and yellow-flowered thorn bushes make it the perfect for a Sunday afternoon picnic and plunge.
One of my veterinary colleagues told us about his terrifying encounter with a crocodile during one of his own family outings. After the first little swim, while the adults were relaxing on the fold-out chairs, their six-year-old son was exploring a nearby reed bed. The next thing his parents heard was a piercing scream. There he was, in the grasp of a croc, being carried off towards the Ewaso Nyiro River, about 400 yards away, where crocodiles are part of the scenery and prey on animals that come to drink.
The father’s reaction was swift, instinctive, and life-saving. He ran to the spot and at once jumped on the animals’ back and dug his fingers into its eyes. The croc at once let go of the child.
I never learned any more about the effects of such an encounter and can only imagine the scars that will surely have lingered for everyone involved.
How one minute, one second can change lives forever. How fortunate that family’s story had a happy ending. How fortunate your family was there.
May 2025 bring love and light to all of you.
Your words, as always touch something deep inside me. Thank you for being a writer.
Thank you for saying that. I've read these words just as I'm skirting my edits, but now I'll go back to work.
Love and light to you, too xo
Life will be a little different for that family from there, onwards. Such things change our perspectives. Control is one of those illusions I seem unable to let go of even though I know the anxiety and worry that goes with it is counterproductive. At the moment I'm reading Not Too Late by Gwendolyn Bounds. I came to a crossroad in my life over the 18 months between July 2022 and the end of 2023, and I'm looking at which road to take next. It's never easy, but it doesn't mean that it's too late!
Thank you for the suggestion, Cate. That sounds like another great read. And yes, you're right, when I saw the daughter afterward, she was clearly feeling that sense of those edges.
What a harrowing experience for all at that beach. Good of you two to rush in and help. The sheer terror that one second can bring to light. I saw that in my life as a trauma OR nurse all the time. One second and how it changes things. Great quotes and thoughts to ponder...what do we and don't we control. How do we bring those actions into light and which actions.
I can only imagine what it might be like to work as a trauma nurse and the moments you see in families' lives. The rest of us forget, I think, quickly, how one second can shift everything.
My son lives near a little beach in Tasmania. Some days they surf there and some days it’s quiet and the kids play in the sand.
I call it “The Beach That Ate Me”.
On one visit, a year or two ago, I was there on my own on a wintery day. The tide was well out, I was wrapped up against the cold wind in my jeans and puffer jacket, walking along the little sandhill on the edge of the beach.
One minute I was bending down to check out a tiny pink flower, and the next I was being tossed onto my back by a giant wave out of nowhere. When I arrived back at the house drenched to the core, and covered in sand, my son’s eyes popped out of his head!
I go to that beach again and again and try to fathom where that wave came from, still have no idea.
But I will never go there alone again! The energy of the ocean is a powerful thing!
That's a scary scenario. Good thing you arrived back safe and just wet.
Thanks! The force of the unseen wave was terrifying!
I was quite bruised, but somehow managed to hold my phone up out of the water 😂 (I had intended to take a photo of the little flower).
The whole thing was quite surreal, TBH!
I bet!
Amazing that your phone survived, too!!!
Wow, what a story. And what a charming name for the beach--charm with a dash of menace! Thank you for sharing, Sarah.
Oh my goodness. I'm so, so glad the man was okay. How frightening for his family and everyone who witnessed the incident. I know just what you mean about being reminded that we are in control of so much less than we think. I feel it every time we feel the earth shake or fire licks the mountains out here in California. That liminal space is always closer than we remember.
When we see it in the news, it's so different from when it's happening in front of us. I can only imagine what it's like in California with the fires. In Saskatoon, we have smoky skies in the summers now, reminding us how close nature and those edges are. Thanks for sharing, Maria. xoxox
What a frightening experience for your family! I am so relieved there was a happy ending for the man. Take good care of yourselves. Happy new year to you and to all your family, Alice! ❤️
Happy New Year to you! I hope you and your family have a wonderful 2025, Sharon!
What a harrowing experience! I am glad to read that the man who nearly drowned is recovering; kudos to Yann and the others who helped save him. As witnesses to these events, the impact may not be felt until later, sometimes at unexpected moments. Take good care of yourself and your family. I hope the rest of your time in Mexico is restful and relaxing!
Thank you, Kiyomi. I always appreciate your kind perspective. We’ve had renewed respect for the ocean and its moods, which has served us well these last few days. It’s easy to forget how strong and deep it is!