1 post tagged “drowning”

“Begin doing what you want to do now. We are not living in eternity. We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand- and melting like a snowflake...” 

Sometimes it's as simple as a shaft of sunlight that illuminates the petals on a peony; sometimes it's having the camera ready to click as an elusive creature emerges and disappears; sometimes it's catching a wave or the wind, or a smile.
Being in the right place at the right time is a gift.
A few days ago I happened to be in the right place at the right time to save a woman's life.
I'm still stunned.
She was drowning.
I could barely hear her cries for help as I crawled ashore into a tiny, stony cove after struggling against a surprising current on the seaward side of Water Lemon Cay. A week before I had effortlessly floated around the exact same spot, barely kicking, delighting in the staghorn coral and hordes of curious sergeant majors in both yellow and blue phases. Green turtles and an octopus. That day I was immersed in a nonchalant, benevolent wilderness.

I didn't think she was serious at first. But when I recognized her panic I instantly dove back in to try to help, foolishly thinking that together we could fight the outgoing tide. After several determined minutes I realized that we couldn't, and  it was entirely possible we both would drown in the treacherous turquoise water. She grabbed my neck in classic desperation, and I remember saying "Ma'am, if you don't let go of my neck I'll have to let you go."
Such strangely formal words. Ma'am? I never say Ma'am! How very odd.
But a shred of logic overtook her desperation, and she released my neck. I still wonder what I would have done if she'd continued to cling to me, dragging us both down.
 
She complied again when I asked her to float on her back and kick, but even with my most fervent kicking and her feeble efforts combined we were losing ground against the tide. It's amazing that there were still Castleton students in the sheltered cove where I had first heard the woman.  When they heard my shouts, Matt Digan and Tom Denison immediately dove in and together, with immense effort, they got her to the shore with me struggling alongside.

Her lips were blue, her knees buckled uselessly beneath her wiry frame, her eyes rolled back in her head. She was unresponsive, but breathing. Matt had lifeguard training and assessed her as being in shock, but stable. He and Tom swam to a nearby sailboat to ask for assistance in getting her to the mainland. While they were gone she woke up enough to answer some questions... I told her that the men had gone for help, and she said "What men?" She remembered that I had been there, but not them.  Her husband had turned back, but she was a strong swimmer and  had decided to continue alone.
She works at the Library of Congress.
That sunlit, dangerous day was her 60th birthday.
I'm so glad I heard her, and that we were all there.
In the right place at the right time.