surf ‘n turf

Alternately titled: Just exactly how long is that crazy woman going to post about her vacation? Wasn’t that like, a month ago?

Finally, Friday, the sun came out. Cleanup tents and all, it was going to be a great day.

Much was recorded on film.

Other things were not recorded on film…

At one point in the afternoon, as we found ourselves standing next to the Official Bright Red All-Terrain Lifeguard Beach Vehicle, listening to Bryan give his name and info to the lifeguard while a good-sized crowd stood around and commented on the situation, my mom turned to me and said, “This! Why aren’t you taking pictures of this! Where is your camera now?”

She was referring to the aftermath of the second time that Bryan found himself rescued by the lifeguards that day. The water had been red-flagged all day. All week. Which basically means that you should not get in the water. But all of us people who had driven in from far-away, land-locked states to get in the ocean were by golly going to get in the ocean.

Late in the morning, after Bryan had been in swimming with the kids, he walked up to me and told me how rough the surf was. My dad, not 30 seconds later, appeared behind us and said, “Those kids are out too far,” pointing towards the horizon. Bryan immediately swam for them, and as he got closer it became clear that these two – a 15 year old girl and her boyfriend – were indeed in trouble. From the shore, I saw him reach them. And then…

Nothing. They weren’t coming back in. They were all afloat, and Bryan had ahold of them, but they weren’t coming back in. I began to get concerned.

Fortunately, lifeguards had been called and soon three of them were in the water on those gigantic boards, swimming out far faster than you would think, scooping the swimmers out. Even Bryan, whether he needed the help or not. After he was deposited on the beach, he went over and sat down, where the girl and her boyfriend and the girl’s mom and various other members of the 30-40 person family group proceeded to come over and thank him and retell the story and generally embarrass him to death with their gratefulness.

So then there was lunch and sunburning and kite-flying and more surfing the waves, and – in Bryan’s words – “one minute we were talking about SpongeBob, and the next minute I look up and we’re way out there.”

We being him and both my boys. Way out there being scary far. With absolutely nothing I could do except have my mom call 911 and keep my eyes on them as though I could keep them anchored there with my gaze alone. Rarely have I felt so helpless.

Of course the lifeguards came again, but there was only one at first, and it was a girl, and I hate to say it, but she just wasn’t as good.  She flipped off her board twice on the way out but finally got Jonathan and brought him back. Before she made it to them, another woman came running off the beach and swam out to Will and pulled him back in. With no board. Turns out she was a lifeguard from AUSTRALIA. That Destin guard could have used a couple of lessons from her.

We confined ourselves largely to our beach chairs after that. And no, we have no pictures of those events, but we do have these. This is not a rescue plane:

This might be, but it was not involved in any way in the 2 rescues of Bryan Jones.

When the red flag is up (see it over there?) this is about as far as you should go in.

Or you could just stay on the shore.