During winter vacations to Cocoa Beach, Florida, I spent tiome relishing in the salty embrace of the Atlantic, and my love for the water extended beyond the ocean to poolside swims year-round. However, a few years ago, my carefree splashing in the waves took a drastic turn after an unexpected encounter with a creature lurking beneath the surface.
It was a warm, sunlit day, and the ocean seemed welcoming. I had just waded into waist-deep water when I felt it—a strong, unexpected bump against my side. I turned quickly, expecting to see a fellow swimmer, but there was no one nearby. My heart pounded as the realization dawned that I had been bumped by a large sea animal, most likely a shark. Although I didn’t see the creature clearly, the experience left an indelible mark on me.
From that day on, the ocean was no longer a place of carefree enjoyment. The once thrilling waves now seemed menacing. I found solace in swimming in pools, where the water was clear, and the risks were few. The ocean, with its unseen mysteries, became a distant memory.
On January 30, 2024, I was back at Cocoa Beach, but this time I stood firmly on the shore. It was noon, and the sun shone brightly over the shimmering waters. As I scanned the horizon, my eyes fell on a telltale fin slicing through shoreside foam of breaking wavews. A shark was feeding just three feet from the shore. I watched in a mix of awe and trepidation as the creature moved with effortless grace through the surf.
As I stood there, capturing the moment, a woman approached me. She had observed my intent gaze and sensed my apprehension. She introduced herself and then began to share an unsettling story about her daughter. She told me that her daughter had been bitten by a shark on her foot the previous year while swimming off the same beach. The young girl was still recovering from the ordeal, both physically and emotionally.
Her story, coupled with my own experience, solidified my decision to stay out of the ocean. I understood that the beach was the shark’s domain, a place where humans are merely visitors. The encounter reminded me that even in our pursuit of leisure, we must respect the natural world and its unpredictable inhabitants.
These days, I content myself with the safety of pools, where I can swim without fear of what lies beneath. But I still cherish the ocean from a distance. I understand its beauty and power, and I respect the creatures that call it home. I may not wade into the waves anymore, but I will always hold a deep appreciation for the vast, enigmatic sea.
Copyright 2024 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 