The first thing I noticed as I walked up to my swimming hole is that there were too many people. Normally at 8am on a weekday, there are fewer than 20 folks there. Today, there were easily over 60, all clustered at the east end of the beach. Next, I noticed warning signs were out, but I was too far away to tell which signs they were. Was it a jellyfish day?
Nope, there was a momma monk seal and her pup on the beach, and they had drawn a crowd. I took note of the roped-off area, and the buoys that had been deployed to indicate where swimming was a bad idea, then went about my business.
My first lap from the seawall to the buoys and back went well, so I decided to make a second. I made it to the buoys and was plodding towards the seawall when I heard whistling and whooping on the beach. I looked up because, although people whistle and whoop all the time, one never knows. I see lots of people waving in my direction, so I look over my shoulder. No one there... they're all waving at me.
"Get out of the water!" drifts across the swells.
Got it. I look behind me, towards the protected area. There's the pup, swimming around, between me and the buoys. Guess he didn't get the memo that he was supposed to stay inside!
I quickly look around for momma. There she is, in front of me.
Shit. I'm between momma and her pup. Ans she's coming my way. She's not charging, but she's not lallygagging either.
I start sidestroking for the beach, keeping my eyes on the approaching momma. I'm not about to try and sprint in because:
1> there's simply no way I'm going to outrun her, and
2> seals are predators. Predators chase things that run.
"Get out of the water!" shrieks some helpful person. Thanks, got that memo, working on it.
I get to within maybe 10 yards of the shore, the water is maybe 4 ft deep, and she's only 10 ft away, closing fast. Her face is above the water, and she's staring straight at me. I get my feet under me, and begin debating whether presenting my leg or my arm is preferable at this point... I really don't want to be bitten in the abdomen.
"Get out of the water!" Seriously? Do you actually think that hasn't occurred to me at this point?
She swims straight at me, opens her mouth wide, making sure I get a good look at her toothies. If I'd leaned forward, I could easily have put my hand on her, so maybe 4 ft away? 3? I've decided on sacrificing the left arm, and am getting ready...
Then she turned and headed back towards her pup. I abandoned all dignity, and scrambled out of the water as fast as I could, lunging and splashing and flailing. Stood on the beach with the other spectators, watched her swimming away. I said something to the crowd like "Thank you for all the yelling and waving and such!"
I hosed off in the shower, then went to spread my towel and dry off in the sun. One man actually asked me "Didn't you see her swimming out there?" I didn't use either of the first two things that popped into my head since his young grandson was standing there, and settled for "No, if I had seen her, I would have headed in."
People.
Anyway, I've heard the expression of someone's heart being in their throat many times; today was the first time I actually experienced it!
