The Bouy

When I ski, the steeper the slope the better. When I surf, the bigger the wave the greater the thrill. When I scuba, the deeper I dive the bigger the kick, when I cliff jump, the higher I go superior the drop and when I sail I can never seem to go fast enough. Most things don’t scare me, but I am not fearless. The elevator on the Eifel Tower made my palms sweat. Getting up close and personal with an eel makes my heart race. Bugs make me squirm. But buoys freak me out the most.

There is something about a buoy that has always scared me. Maybe it’s the fact that the algae growing on the chain attracts small fish which attracts bigger fish who eat those fish, which are then eaten by seals, which in turn draws in the very big fish. Maybe it’s the sound the buoy makes when the wind hits it and it rattles. Maybe it’s the ominous flashing light on top. Maybe it’s the panic on my mom’s face whenever she gets near one. Maybe it’s the superstition that it’s unlucky to touch one. Maybe it’s my own made-up reality that beyond the buoy, sharks feast.

            Whatever the reason, I always feel uneasy. As an ocean lifeguard the quarter and half mile buoys play central roles in all physical tests and trainings. No matter how many times I swim around them, my heart rate soars, my strokes quicken, and my mind races. The minute I have left the buoy in my wake my feet stop kicking like a wood chipper, my heart slows to normal, and my mind returns to the task at hand.

            This summer in Del Mar, California, my hometown and the beach I work at, had a huge influx of juvenile and some not so juvenile Great White Shark sightings. We saw them mostly a quarter mile out right next to that little white buoy. As a department we filed so many shark-sighting reports that our small town caught the attention of Cal State Long Beach’s renowned shark lab. Researchers from the lab contacted us and started tagging sharks in early August.

            They tagged 20 sharks. With the smallest measuring about seven feet and the largest at just over sixteen. Whenever one of these twenty-tagged sharks swims by the buoy, the lab gets an alert. In one month, 30 days, the lab received 6,400 alerts.

            My fear might be valid after all.