Riptides - A True Story.

Years ago when I was a 13yr old boy, I took my best friend at the time with my family and I to our annual vacation at the beach. This year we stayed at Oak Island, a quaint little area near the Outer-banks in North Carolina. There was nothing particularly special about it all- we did everything as usual. Shark week was on and that was playfully scary. We were watching the local news one morning while eating breakfast when the weatherman reported on riptides, how to handle them, and how to escape from them. The program then went on to explain how the seas had been particularly rough this summer due to several tropical storms off the coast, and that three people had already died a few miles from where we were staying. Despite this, we chose to simply be more cautious and continued our vacation without a second thought. Fast-forward to later that day on the beach, and my friend, Nick, and I were back in the water once more. We'd love to go around 2.5-3ft deep and let the waves hit and knock us over. Then we'd get back up and get tossed around again. It really was quite fun. Then, we saw a particularly large wave coming. Perhaps 5 or 6ft. We excitedly got in our power-stance and braced ourselves for the impact, digging our feet into the fine sand and twisting them for extra leverage. The wave loomed taller and then started foaming, edging towards us at an increasingly aggressive rate until it crashed. We both went under and I did multiple under-water summersaults, laughing all the way through and face-planting into the sand while submerged. But then the wave started retreating before I could stabilize myself and get up.I started clawing at the sand, digging my hands as deep as I could but it was a fruitless effort. I pushed up and my head bobbed out but then got shoved back under by a smaller wave. At this point, I tried to stand but realized that what was previously 2ft water was now around 5ft. So, I start trying to swim back to shore. Nick is closer to the shallows, standing up and gesturing for me to come back in. I push my arms harder, power-housing my body against the tide trying to gain ground. However, the shore only became more distance. Dread filled me and I started calling for Nick. From the distance, I could see Nick go forward, then hesitate and sprint back. I start yelling "Help! Help, please! Help!" I then remember the little news program from earlier that morning and start simply trying to keep my head above water to conserve my energy. Unfortunately, I do not float well, so in order to do this I had to constantly tread water. My arms begin to burn from tire and the water suddenly turns cold. I get the idea to push myself down to the ocean floor and jump up so I could propel myself out of the water and get a deep breath, like I would do in the deeper areas of a swimming pool. I submerge myself and begin my decent. Deeper, darker, colder. I got to about 11ft deep and I still could see no bottom or feel no bottom. Light above was dimmer and all around me was darkness. The water was bitter cold and murky; you could not see 2ft infront of yourself. Scared shitless now at how deep I really was, I quickly swim up to the surface panicked and begin calling for help again.I forgot to mention that I have severe sight and hearing loss; as such, I wear glasses and hearing aids. I goggles that allow me to see things somewhat clearly up to 10ft, but past that, it is all a grainy blur. I cannot wear hearing aids in water, so I only hear the ocean occasionally if something splashes right next to my ear.I realize the gravity of my situation, and begin to genuinely fear for my life. No one was coming. This was the only time in my life that I've experienced a full adrenaline dump in the fear of losing my life. I have never felt true fear since. Adrenaline is incredible- the contrast in my vision skyrocketed, and, I could remarkably see everything, and everyone, with perfect clarity. The shore was about 75ft out. I could see people pointing in my direction. I could make out their shouts. I noticed every small detail and all my senses were on overdrive; my brain processing every bit of data from my senses with acute precision and clarity. I kept treading and shouting. The water continued to grow cold. Then the paranoia began; I begin to see shadows under the water. I would feel a bump on the bottom of my foot. I was in shark territory now; floating at the mercy of predators who certainly were aware of the small, frightened, exhausted 13yr old boy who was vastly out of his element. The cloudiness of the water only extrapolated upon these fears. I swam and I swam, yet I kept being pulled out. Eventually, I began to accept that I could die. I begged for my life. "Please, let me live. Please. Please I don't wanna die. I'm so young. Please." I was exhausted now, the adrenaline wearing off and my newfound strength fading as I began to accept the potential of my fate. I would be lost to the sea or wash up on the shore as another live that was claimed from the ruthlessness of the sea.I can vividly remember the stereotypical "life flashing before your eyes." The stereotype is real and has truth. In perhaps a second or less I "witnessed" a replay of my life up until that moment.Yet I kept lazily treading, letting myself sink under a little longer each time beneath the bounding moves of the ocean. There were no waves out here; just the ocean rocking back and forth. Then I saw my mother about 15ft out swimming towards me. My first thought was, "No, why, no she can't get us in though". My mom is a small woman; she's got a huge heart but isn't the strongest out there. She's about 10ft out and starts screaming towards me with her hand outstretched. I yelled her name and pushed myself forward a little, trying my best to swim towards her while the ocean rocked us both up and down. Eventually I was pushed forward towards her; how, I do not know. She grabbed me and we held on to each other. I tried to help keep us afloat by treading with my right arm and kicking. She didn't try to swim forward. We just struggled in our place in the abyss and kicked, desperately trying to stay afloat. I started apologizing profusely. I didn't want my mother to die with me. We bobbed up and down. I could tell by looking at her that she was visibly exhausted- she had no way of getting us back in.Moments later a large man about 40ft out tossed a boogey-board in our direction. We pushed towards it but it was a little too far. My mom pushed me towards it and I thrusted my arms forward and boosted a few feet away and grabbed it, with my mom grabbing on to me shortly after. The man began trying to pull us in but began to slip as well. Two other men came up behind him; one helped him stay in his place and the other helped him reel us in. They took steps backwards and pulled us in. Only then could you see how much tension the current was pulling us with. We were somehow still in the riptide. A few moments past and the shore began to get larger. Waves started getting larger and then, much to my relief they began to crash. After that, I could touch again. We both stood up and held on to each other, walking through the ocean back to the beach. I was cold and I couldn't distinguish if I was shaking from exhaustion or from the cold. Probably both. Soon enough the water left and I felt dry sand. My sisters were shaken; the oldest ran up and asked, "Are you okay bud??" I kept walking and said, "Yeah I'm fine." I was surprised at how unstable my voice sounded. My dad rushed towards us and and squeezed my hand. He's a big guy and has never been able to swim well. My other sister had face-planted on the beach after sprinting towards the ocean after me. I sat down under our tarp and wrapped myself in a towel. My best friend was back there crying; he'd gone to get my parents and had thought he'd left me to die. I just sat down to rest and got on my phone. My family didn't speak much for the rest of the afternoon.The next day I was back out on the beach, and the water was as calm as a lake. No waves crashed. Just the gentle swaying of the currents. I didn't go deep that day. Now though, I venture back into the waves and go nearly as deep as I did then. The exception is is that I always carry a boogey-board with me now. Beware of the sea and respect the mistress; she is unforgiving.