Dozy Writes

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If you read my last post you will know that I am currently recovering from a broken heart.

Before you start feeling too sorry for me, please be reassured that the pain has been softened somewhat by spending time with my family in Australia.

It’s always a wonderful experience to visit Australia, especially as I can spend a lot of time at the beach. It’s hard to avoid the beaches, there are around 3,500 of them in Western Australia alone. 

The area I go to has beaches stretching out for miles, dazzling white sand contrasting with clear, turquoise waters.

It almost seems too idyllic to be real.

Almost.

The plethora of surfers in the ocean is a reminder that there are a lot of waves. Good for surfers, not so good for the casual bather.

The waves and rip currents mean that a seemingly gentle dip in the ocean can often turn into an adrenaline fuelled experience.

Wave danger

Entering and exiting the ocean can be a perilous activity, one where you need to avoid the dumper waves – so called because they pick you up and dump you.

I have experienced dumper waves a few times over the years and it’s a great insight into what it might be like inside a washing machine on a spin cycle. 

The first time I experienced this was terrifying. The wave picked me up and spun me around ferociously whilst blasting sand and salt water at me. I desperately tried to fight against it, to no avail. My body mass was no match against the power of the ocean.

Emerging after what seemed like forever but was probably only five seconds, I tried to clear the sand from my nose and gather my dignity, desperately hoping that no-one had seen me. 

Having discovered that trying to fight against the power of the ocean only made everything worse, I soon realised that Marcus Aurelius may have known what he was talking about when he recommended going with the flow.

More dumper waves

My most recent wave dump was spectacular. I was trying to get out of the water and mistimed the waves, leaving me at the mercy of a particularly large dumper wave. 

I barely had the time to react when I found myself caught up in the violent swirl. I closed my eyes tight and tried to be patient as it whipped me round.

When I was finally washed up on the shore, I crawled to my feet, desperately adjusting my swimwear and attempting a quick exit before the next dumper wave arrived.

Once safe on the sand, I carried out an inventory of the damage: 

1. One lost hair bobble
2. One lost pāua shell ring
3. One escaped boob from my tankini top, and the final indignity…
4. Bikini bottoms pulled down to my knees. 

As if this wasn’t bad enough, there was more to come.

When I removed my swimwear to have a shower, I was shocked to discover half the contents of the ocean in my tankini. Wet sand and seaweed hit the floor with a resounding slap on the tiled floor.

I love the beach but I really didn’t need any of it to come into the house.

It’s frustrating because I have such an affinity with the ocean. I love swimming and snorkelling as well as being quite partial to floating lazily in a calm sea.

I have always found the sound of the waves to be a soothing one, however, my time in Australia has somewhat affected my ability to associate a zen quality to the sound of the waves. 

As much as I want to channel a ‘namaste’ mindset, I often find myself recalling the adrenaline rush as I make a split-second decision about whether or not to dive down under the next approaching wave. 

It’s fun but not always relaxing.

Unrealistic depictions

What really bugs me is that you never see anyone experiencing any of these issues in films. They just seem to levitate out of the water without encountering any waves or currents. 

They never seem to experience an uneven ocean floor that makes them feel as if they’re on a fairground ride.

Nor do they encounter a shelf of sand on the shore so high that their ability to step upwards whilst simultaneously battling the pull of the retreating wave will result in them falling sideways in a most unseemly fashion.

And I have certainly never seen someone lose their sunglasses after being hit by a wave. Before you say anything, most people need to wear sunglasses to protect their eyes from the damaging glare of the sun.

None of this happens in films. Instead, they remain elegant and composed, with no sign of having to battle their way out of a dumper wave.

Sharks and jet skis

As well as the potentially damaging power of the water itself, there are other threats in the ocean.

Many people visiting Australia are terrified of sharks and the possibility of being attacked by one. 

There is no doubt that there are sharks around and they have been known to attack people, but I have a greater fear of something else that moves quickly through the water.

Jet skis. 

Or more accurately the idiots driving them. 

These fools are in charge of a high-speed watercraft, something that seems to encourage recklessness. Many of the people using them put swimmers in danger by travelling too fast, too close to the shore.

They are also more likely to crash into another watercraft because they’re too busy showing off to everyone on the beach, the roar of the engine shouting, ‘Look at me! Look at me!’.

Seriously dudes, go to therapy to work out your insecurity issues rather than being a menace to everyone in the ocean.

You may have realised that I’m not a fan of jet skis.

Romance at the beach

Despite the jarring sound of the jet skis, many people find visiting the beach to be a romantic experience. I have lost count of the number of couples I have observed frolicking and flirting.

I must confess that I too was one of these people. A.P and I would happily cavort in the ocean, oblivious to those around us.

However, given my recent separation, I have found myself secretly hoping that the frolicking couples get dumped by a wave thereby putting an end to their playful display of love. 

Does this make me a bad person?

Possibly, but I’m also human.

Will Mother Nature respond to my mischievous thoughts by ensuring that I will also get rolled and dumped, having been blasted with so much sand that it gathers in my bikini bottoms making it look as if I’ve shat myself?

Quite likely, yes. 

Will it have been worth it? 

Absolutely.

Hot surfers (and priests)

Speaking of romance, one of my pals was eager to know if I encountered any hot surfers in Australia. 

She was also keen to know if I’d met any hot priests – she’s a long-term fan of the Thornbirds, a book and TV series set in Australia where the heroine falls in love with a priest.

I had to inform her that I haven’t paid any attention to the surfers because they all seem too young for me. Furthermore, the only priests I’m likely to see are the monks at the Buddhist temple I sometimes go to and they shave off all of their hair including their eyebrows.

In fact, I was so oblivious to the attractiveness of anyone that I was starting to think that the romantic part of me had been completely switched off, perhaps because my heart still lies with A.P. 

It’s made me wonder how one gets their heart back in this situation. Do Royal Mail offer a special delivery postal service to return hearts to their owners or will it gradually make its way back to me on its own?

I was still pondering this a few days later when I met a guy at the beach. Despite not being interested in any romantic connection, I surprised myself by noticing that he was attractive. 

We engaged in a little bit of lighthearted banter and I realised that the romantic fire within me hadn’t died. It may only have been embers but for a split second, I felt a minuscule flare of interest. 

Even though I’m not ready for another relationship, it was reassuring to know that I still have the ability to find others attractive.

A painful encounter

Soon after this exchange, presumably in an effort to prove that I was still alive, Mother Nature provided me with a new experience: getting motorboated by a jellyfish.

Yes, you read that correctly.

I was happily bobbing about in the water when the little blighter went down my bikini top, bounced back and forth in my cleavage for a while before I managed to shake it out.

It was deeply unpleasant and rather painful, leaving me with enough swelling that I looked as if I had grown an extra pair of boobs.

Come on, Mother Nature, if I’m not prepared to let a man rummage around my cleavage, a jellyfish is hardly likely to be welcome. 

Lessons in life

Despite all of these challenges, I found myself having a beautiful moment in the ocean one day.

I was bobbing around, enjoying the achingly beautiful colour palette laid out before me. 

The turquoise and jade of the water was topped with sparkling diamonds where the sun reflected on the gentle ripples. As the waves washed onto the white sand they left trails of opals and amethysts on the shore. The sky was deep blue, highlighted with artfully placed clouds in brilliant white.

There was nothing visible in the distance, just the ocean. The closest piece of land in that direction was South Africa over 5,000 miles away.

A cormorant flew over the water and I thought to myself, ‘This is paradise.’

I was grateful for the healing power of the ocean, the gentle lap of the waves soothing me at a time when every aspect of my life was, and still is, changing.

I could feel my worries and fears being washed away, their level of importance diminishing as I took in the vastness of the sky.

Overwhelmed by the beauty, I found myself crying. Feeling somewhat fanciful, I thought about my tears merging with the salt of the ocean and imagined them making their way back to the UK. 

Or possibly Antarctica.

I don’t know. I’ve never understood tides despite A.P’s best efforts to teach me about them.

I watched some kitesurfers in the distance, the kites dancing around in a kind of ballet. One surfed closer to me and I studied him for a while. 

I was amazed as he leapt out of the water, gliding through the sky before landing back in the waves.

Always one to find a life lesson in the simple things, I found myself thinking how even though this guy was literally being lifted out of the water, he was confident that he could safely land again. 

He was enjoying riding the waves rather than hiding away from them. 

OK, Donna, you’re doing OK. You’re just riding the waves. Be at one with the water. You’ve got this.

Full of hope and resolve, I turned around only to be smashed in the face by a particularly large wave, filling my mouth with so much water that I inadvertently swallowed some. 

So much for my zen moment.

Did you know that ingesting sea water has a laxative effect on the body? I was unaware of this until I had to abandon the beach in a rush to use the facilities.

I guess Mother Nature is a bit like me and prefers to keep it real.

At the end of it all, I know that I have had an incredible experience.

Was it completely idyllic?

Definitely not, but it was real which, in my opinion, makes it perfect.