Paging Mr. Waldo

I decided that my blog doesn't have enough illustrations. Since I have absolutely no artistic ability, however, I'll just have to start including really bad digital photos.



Unlike my inaugural blog post, I'm not going to say anything witty about tuna. There aren't even any tuna in this picture! Unless one of the sea lions had a great snack earlier, but I tend to doubt it. They look too lazy to bother. The sea lions, not the tuna. As I said, I don't see any tuna.

This picture reminds me a lot of "Where's Waldo", but less odd people and more real creatures. And a lot more looking for the creatures than actually trying to find a specific one. I couldn't help but wonder "which of the sea lions answers to Waldo." You can't help but wonder "which sea lions."

Serenity

The sun shining, a gentle breeze floating in off the ocean. It's not too hot out, and either due to a quirk of nature or possibly because I actually remembered sunscreen, I don't have to worry about getting a sunburn. Or maybe because the sun is really close to setting and won't be around long enough for me to worry. Whichever, but probably the latter.

The waves are gently lapping up against the shore, wiping away any footprints that had been there. The water is a little cool, but still comfortable to wade in. At least the handful of seagulls around don't seem to mind it too horribly. There's a crab's shell that's washed ashore, but the crab apparently hasn't had much need of it for a while--the gulls find it somewhat amusing, however.

The soft sound of the water meeting the land is relaxing, and as the sun sets someone starts a bonfire. The moon is just a sliver, but the stars are sparkling, reflecting off the gently moving sea.

That is the perfect day in a nutshell. Or at least so I think when I have a ton of work on my plate. Of course, if I've no work at the moment, a hectic day at the office sometimes seems preferable.

You Want Us To Do What?!

We were vacationing on a small island that summer. It couldn't have been much more than a few miles from one end to the other, and on the exact opposite end was something we just /had/ to see. I think it was where the piles and piles of salt were, or perhaps it was the shipwreck. Or maybe even an aquarium, but it seems as if the island were too small and unknown to support one, so that was probably on the next island over.

Anyway, about midway through the week it is decided that we're off to see the other end of the island, and my parents make this big deal of how the island's small enough that you can /walk/ the _whole_way_. How it's this little speck, and how we're never going to get a chance like this again, and why don't we kids walk it. My parents would walk it too, but the guides were their friends and had to take the car to work at the other end, but it's ok they'd be right behind us in the car if any of us couldn't make it.

Of course we could make it, we were all kids. And none of us could possibly be willing to admit to being unable to go the distance if the other two could. So walk it we did, the entire way, the length of an entire island. Except for the stretches where we ran, of course.

I now wonder if this had anything to do with us running around the house like maniacs earlier that day. It isn't often that our parents encouraged us to tire ourselves out by playing in the road.

Built to Stand the Test of Time

Today, I went to the beach. I waded in the water, I threw around a frisbee, but most importantly, I built a sandcastle. It's been a while since last I built one, and I was reminded again of how much engineering and thought goes into building a good, "lasting" sandcastle.

Lasting until the tide rises too far, anyway. A proper sandcastle must be built somewhere just a few feet above where the waves can reach at the time of construction, and should be built in such a way that the first dozen or so waves won't tear it down. For my castle today, I did that via the dual-moat method.

As for why the sandcastle must be built at such a location, there are two reasons. First, that is where the best sand for building can be found. If it were built any further inland, sand would have to be hauled up from this part of the beach. That's a lot of work for a structure that, between the dogs, frisbees and marauding feet, ignoring the waves themselves, a structure that won't last for more than a little while anyway. It's best to build it at this location and resign your castle to oblivion in the sea.

The second reason for building at this location is that it makes it a much more interesting and fun structural challenge. It's fairly interesting, in my mind, to try to build a castle that will withstand as many waves as I can. The dual-moat method is decent for the initial breaking waves and for the building phase, but there are other methods to keep the castle standing, even when the tide again begins to rise. Drain holes (or lack thereof), sticks and shells, and appropriate placement and direction are all very important to consider.

My castle today wasn't overly impressive. A walled structure containing a large building, several towers and a couple smaller buildings, mostly interconnected. But as people walked by, even a couple hours after construction was complete, they'd stop and look at it, hoping to see that first wave break over the outer wall.

I was pleased by the family that stood by for quite a while before finally giving up and heading on home. Even if the kid decided he'd try helping waves through the outer moat.

Painful Undertow

Most of my childhood, my sister and cousin both kept trying to convince grandpa to take them to Hawaii. Finally they succeeded. But grandpa didn't want to have to go more than once, so one summer he took all five of his grandchildren to Hawaii for a week.

Most of the week was planned out, busy siteseeing, going places, doing things. Pearl Harbor, a Polynesian village, volcanoes and waterfalls, near the end of the week people were finally getting really tired. But I'd yet to get to actually swim in the ocean.

How one can be on an island and not have the chance to really swim, I don't know. I love water though, and simply adore the ocean, so I had to make sure I made it to swim in a Real Ocean at least once. Everyone else ended up having something they wanted to do one evening (mostly being sleeping, I believe), so I got grandpa, and he took me swimming. He, of course, didn't go swimming himself, but that's another story. Or three.

So I got in the water, and start playing around. I knew I wasn't used to the current, so I tested it out a bit, staying near the shore, where I could touch bottom, until I got used to the feel. Finally, I got brave enough and headed out a bit further.

Of course, that's the same time that the huge wave decides to come along. So right there in the middle-ground, between where the wave starts cresting and where I can be fairly certain of touching ground, I was caught. The wave crashing above my head, I knew I was going under, so the best choice was obviously to go right through.

I obviously still wasn't used to the current.

With the wave crashing over my head, I got turned upside down, but the water churning and the current pulling and everything, I couldn't tell which way was up. Swimming as hard as I could, I finally reached out..and grabbed a fist full of sand. To make matters worse, the current was pulling me in two different directions, and my knee didn't much care for that. I've had some knee problems, but it doesn't get much more frightening than upside down in the ocean, rapidly running out of breath, and now unable to use a leg.

Of course, being out in the middle of the Pacific, the waves in general were fairly huge. So the wave quickly passed, and a valley came, putting me in about knee-depth water. Knowing which way is up helps get rid of a ton of panic. Even if there's another wave coming.

Even though I knew what I wanted, it sure hurt a lot to get my swim in the ocean. A fairly terrifying experience, not something that I'd like to relive.

Yet, I still love the ocean.