Lat Thursday afternoon, Olivia poked her head into my office while I was hard at work writing an article on “Popular Fiction” for the Cambridge World Shakespeare Encyclopedia. “Daddy,” she said, “the waves are huge! Will you take me swimming?”
The good thing about popular fiction is that it’s always there — that’s what popular means, after all — so it seemed like a pretty good idea. It had been blowing hard for a day or so, with another day of high winds and rain to come. The tide was high, and Short Beach was, for a change, a roaring shore.
Olivia suited up and put on a life jacket, & we even recruited Alinor to join us. The water isn’t cold yet, but it was pretty rough: when the swell smacks into the sea-wall, it creates a standing wave that is (as high school physics tells us) twice as high as the first wave coming in.
The rare waves brought everybody out — our neighbor Joe Piscatelli the surfer was in the middle of the bay on his board, trying (with little success, alas) to ride the swell. Dave & Gay Peterson, our most indefatigable swimmers, headed straight out along the sheltered western shore of the bay. Plus a second surfer I didn’t know and a pair of Short Beach matrons were just getting in when we finally left.
Olivia likes to float in the surf & look out as each new wave floats her up and over. We swam out pretty far, maybe 50 yards or so, so that we could float in the bigger waves. We could feel the power of the destructive element, but it also buoyed us up.
I grew up in Long Beach. Most of my childhood and adolescence was spent on the beach. It was the first place I went to think, write, read, and solve problems. I was fortunate enough to grow up so close to the beach that I could hear the waves from my bedroom window. As much time as I spent there meditating, I didn’t do all that much swimming. The beach was a very relaxing place but the water was not. It was rough, it had claimed lives, and I was no match for it as far as I was concerned. Maybe the reason I was drawn there so much as a teenager was because of the powerful and destructive feelings that raged inside of me. I have several memories of running to the beach at various stages of upset and then calmly walking back home.
It’s amazing how the ocean can be so powerful and destructive and yet so beautiful and healing at the same time.
Which Long Beach? The one just south & east from our campus? I’m a Jersey shore kid myself. I like the idea of the beach as a place to “solve problems.”
Yep, Long Beach, LI in Nassau County. For some reason I could always think clearer at the beach and gain insight into whatever issue was pressing at the moment.
My husband and I love going to Asbury Park. A lot of people give us funny looks when we say that but it’s a great little place to get away.
For lack of a more scholarly way to say it, I <3 the Jersey Shore. I try to spend as much time there during the summer as I possibly can, usually in Belmar. I was lucky to catch the last nice day down there, and read Cesaire's *A Tempest* right at the edge of the water. And Asbury Park is really up and coming these days, Danielle, so no funny looks from me. It's about 15-20 minutes from my house– when I'm home that is. If you decide to bring the little one down for the day, I recommend you check out the Silver Ball Pinball Arcade. It's a pretty cool spot!
I’m a Jersey Shore kid as well — spent many summers & etc in Bay Head & at the boardwalk in Pt Pleasant. Very good place for little kids, & I’ve always esp loved going there off season. On year when I was in college, I managed to get myself into the Atlantic at least once every month of the academic year. The tough ones were March and April.