Marek A beautiful sunny day, but very big waves. I discover that if I stand in a place where the water begins to foam, the resulting boil snatches me away and pushes it across a minimum of several meters of beach. Feeling like on a slide where the body floats on a cushion of air. Something like surfing, but on your own back, sometimes in your belly, and sometimes, if the wave is bigger, in a constant rotational motion in all directions. Great fun on the beach, except that after a few such descents (or rather rides) the briefs fill with a lot of thick sand and pebbles, who knows maybe even some sea creatures.
There is no shower in the area, and the scratching sand has to be removed somehow. I decide to deal with it differently. In a twisted, but hopefully effective way. I go deeper into the sea, jump out of my briefs and rinse them with sea water. Just a few meters from the shore, the bottom falls rapidly, up to about 5 meters. So I carry out the operation without access to land. While floating on the water, I take off my swimming trunks, rinse them thoroughly and try to put them back on.
And here is a surprise. While taking off the pants was not a problem, with such a high and foamy wave, putting them on is almost impossible. On top of that, a few turbulences, with the stubbornness of a maniac, he tries to push me underwater. On the other hand, does the audience on the shore deserve to see my ancestral jewels showcased? Crowds of women who, seeing me in this state, will overtake me in order to make a closer acquaintance. There is no way out. A few minutes of fighting the elements and briefs are in the right place.
The next step is to return to the mainland. It seems simple, but it‘s only a dozen or so meters. In the first attempt, I cover about 10 meters. However, the receding wave takes me to the starting point, taking me in liters of sea water at the same time. The next attempt, I touch the edge of the rapidly falling bottom with my foot. Unfortunately, another receding wave and I am back to square one. Several more attempts, each with the same effect, and more and more water in the stomach.
A short rest on my back. The water here is so salty that it is enough to lie down on it, not move, the body stays afloat on its own. Unfortunately, this does not apply to a situation in which the highest waves cover my head every now and then. So it remains to make one last desperate attempts, of course without success. Each time the same familiar scenario repeats itself. Finally, the body refuses to obey, sends a signal “enough of this water pouring inside“. I feel the first contractions of the larynx. Gasping for air is becoming more and more difficult. Every time you try to catch your breath, there is a wheezing sound, and each time less and less oxygen goes to your lungs.
It‘s time to give up. I raise my hand and shout: “help, help!!!”. Agnieszka, standing on the shore, apparently providentially understanding my waving, waves back happily, shouting: “Hey! How do you have fun?”.
The scream made by the clenched throat does not reach the shore.
Fortunately, there are fishermen nearby. Resting on the shore, they immediately realize what is happening. The sight of a Mexican jumping into the water with a life jacket in his hand fills me with a bit of hope. It takes him a few moments to swim there. For me, these are hours of struggle with the elements. He puts a life jacket in my hand. Mindful of the fact that panicked drowned people are quite often a threat to the rescuer, he repeats several times: “Take it easy, man”
I don‘t need to be told twice. I keep a cool head enough to relax my body and let myself be towed.
Despite the protection in the form of a lifeguard and a vest lifting me, I still feel more and more difficulty breathing. I think I‘m starting to lose consciousness a bit, because the only thing I remember from those few minutes is the fact that we don‘t get close to the shore at all. I also remember the sound of the larynx being abused and the lungs that cannot breathe. My rescuer, in cold blood, chooses the only sensible direction. Why didn‘t I think about it earlier? He tows me to a boat anchoring away from the shore. A few attempts to get on board, and finally my oxygen–deprived muscles are up to the task and I manage to pull myself up to the side. It is a several–meter–high building.
In a safe place, I still fight for every breath of air. It is worth taking care not to vomit on the bottom of someone else‘s boat. I manage to give Agnieszka a sign that I am whole. In the meantime, she understood what was happening. Two more Mexicans swim in from the shore. One of them fastens my life jacket. I would be happy if it weren‘t for the idea that one of my rescuers throws around: “We’re going to jump into the water now,” he says, “I‘ll tow you to the shore“,
“Well, please no…”, I manage to whisper in a tearful voice.
In the corner of the specimen, I notice with relief that there is a can of gasoline for the days of the boat. A miracle, as most fishermen do not leave gasoline on their anchored boats. The engine starts with some resistance. However, four or five attempts are enough. A few minutes and I‘m back on the safe sand on the ocean shore.
What about the sand and pebbles in my swim trunks? On the hotel floor, after taking them off, I piled a large pile of shells, sand and sea creatures.
Thanks to the employees of Azul Profundo, and the fishermen of Puerto Angel for saving their lives. None of them accepted any substantive expressions of gratitude from me. Even a measly bottle of tequila.
