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Last winter, Kate and I took our first-ever Caribbean vacation. It was just the two of us on the French side of the Island of St. Martin. We were looking forward a break from the cold Wisconsin winter and enjoying the French cuisine and culture.

However, we were not prepared for what happened to us on a day at the beach. Toward the end of our trip, we decided to spend the day at Plum Beach on the west side of the island. The weather could not have been better for relaxing and swimming—sunny and warm with calm winds.

We put on our swimsuits, and brought our camp chairs, a lunch, and a couple of beers (to help me nap). To be safe and avoid frying our pasty white skin, we bought a nice sunshade from REI (https://www.neso.com/collections/tents)

Despite the calm wind, we were surprised when we arrived to see that there were big swells and huge waves crashing on the beach. Unlike most of the beaches on the island, the slope of the sand on this beach was steep, so the biggest waves collapsed in a monstrous explosion just as they hit the shore. And although the beach was crowded, nobody was swimming.

After a short walk, we set up our chairs under our new shade. We saw three young, tan, and muscular men heading toward the shore to swim. They stood patiently, waiting for the right moment. When a big wave approached—more than 10-feet tall—they simply lowered their heads and dove straight into it. With this technique, they were able to get out beyond the crashing waves and enjoy floating up and down in the huge swells.

To get back to shore, they simply rode on top of one of the churning, frothy waves, allowing it to push them all the way to where they had started. Easy. Or so it seemed.

Having seen them succeed, I couldn’t resist trying it out myself. I might not be young, nor tan, but I used to be muscular. I joked to the young men as I walked by “Keep an eye on me and pull me out if I get in trouble.”

As I left, Kate added, “I hope you guys are lifeguards!” They responded, “Yes, actually we are.” She was relieved.

Once I got to the shore, I waited patiently, just as the young men had done. When the swells were less, I jumped in and started to swim out. Suddenly, a big wave came toward me, and I ducked and dove into it and came out the other end. Once out past the waves, I could bob up and down with each successive swell. It was an amazing experience, and I could see Kate smiling at a distance.

After floating around for some time, I noticed that the swells were getting less, so I started to swim back in. As a swell lifted me up, I rode in on top of it as it pushed me all the way up, high on the beach. Success! It was time for lunch, and a beer.

After lunch, we were not sure whether to take a nap, or try swimming again. Kate surprised me, by saying, “I’ll go out if you help me.” I happily agreed, and we headed out. What could go wrong? We barely noticed that the three young lifeguards had left.

The next wave was not very big, so we ran toward the shore. What we did not expect, however, was that a huge wall of water would come crashing down behind us, knocking us down and sweeping us into the ocean.

Before we could get up, a monstrous wave suddenly appeared in front of us and crashed over the top of us, crushing us as we held onto each other for dear life.  Then another wave came crashing in, followed by a surge of water back from the shore. Each time we came up for a breath, another wave would come crashing down.

We were trapped, and it felt like we were wrestling inside of a washing machine. Locked together, I was crushing Kate into the sand with each pounding wave. Nothing we did helped, and it seemed to go on forever.

Getting desperate, I realized that nobody was going to come to help us. And then I remembered the saying, “Put your gas mask on before helping others.”

So, I let go of Kate and managed to crawl up a few more feet on the beach on my hands and knees. Just then, another wave came crashing in and I saw Kate floating by me out to sea in foamy mix of sand and salt water. We grabbed onto each other and tried desperately to hold onto the firm sand with our legs and feet. It worked.

With each successive wave—more a slurry of sand and salt water—we were pushed up a few more feet toward safety. After what seemed like an eternity of being tossed back and forth, and up and down, we realized that the worst was over.

Only then, did we start to laugh at what had just happened, mostly thinking about what we looked like: Two old people crawling up the beach, struggling to stand, then walking arm-in-arm, bent at the waist, completely exhausted, back to our beach chairs.

We walked past a French family sitting under an umbrella, and I could see that they were holding back their smiles. I said to them, “I would say that was ‘complètement fou” (completely crazy)! They laughed and said “Bien sur monsieur” (Of course sir)!

It was only after we sat down, that Kate admitted that when we were in the worst of the it, she thought she was going to drown.

But those happy thoughts went away, as we confronted the real problem—during our tumultuous time in the waves, sand had been packed into our swimsuits and every orifice of our bodies. Kate said that she had the most complete neti-pot experience she’s ever had, with sand and saltwater filling her nose and sinuses.

We removed our sand-packed swimsuits (under cover of a towel, of course), but then realized that rinsing off in the ocean was not an option. So, we decided to surrender the day, and return to our villa to try to get the rest of the sand out of our hair, ears, and other places.

But just as we were packing up, I saw that same French family standing close to the shoreline! Just then, another monstrous wave came crashing in, and knocked them over and started to drag them out to sea.  

My instincts kicked in again, and realizing that the lifeguards had left, I ran down and grabbed the arms of a young woman, just as she was being pulled out to sea. I was able to get her back higher on the beach, though stumbling to do so, averting my eyes as the waves had removed the top of her bikini.

Then I ran back and pulled the older woman up out of the water and helped her to get to higher ground. The man was able to get back on the beach on his own, and they all walked slowly back to their umbrella next to us.

As we packed up our stuff, and we walked by them, I smiled at them, and they thanked us, and repeated, “Ca été vraiment fou” (that was really crazy)!

Post-script

After returning to Madison, Kate noticed a clicking sound in her ear. I grabbed an otoscope and looked in, and saw that the exterior ear canal was packed with white particles of beach sand (like in the photo above); a souvenir from our day at the beach. She checked my ears, and I too had sand in my ears. She went to the clinic, and they were able to wash out most, but not all of it. A nice souvenir from our day at the beach.