So where are the umbrellas, right? Well here's the thing. In conjunction with that blog, I will be creating and posting a humorous video demonstrating the proper installation of the beach umbrella. Whilst brainstorming for the video I realized that there is a far better way to illustrate my points. I just need a little help. I need a little love from Mumsy Nature. When she obliges with the correct elements, I shall oblige you, dear readers, with the correct techniques. Until then we will revisit the tower.
And I'll stop with the misdirection. Maybe.
During my last post I briefly touched upon what we lifeguards call "pre-water assessment." I didn't mention the term, but I described it in action. Remember the family with the coolers and cargo shorts? Skin so white that you gotta wear shades? That was pre-water assessment in action. That was the lifeguard recognizing that if left alone the family in question may have departed the beach with less than they arrived with, and I'm not talking about the contents of the coolers...
Lifeguards look for rescues well before they happen. Why? Simply put, there are a lot more of you than there are of us. It's a numbers game and the lifeguards strive to get the odds in their, and ultimately your favor. A former captain of mine said it the best, "When you are in the tower you are a lifeguard. When you are making a rescue you are a lifesaver." Now I am going to ignore all the obvious jokes about the tasty treat so low in calories and yet so good in the mouth and move on to explain the statement and its profound truth.
When I am in the water, I am not watching it. I am no longer looking for the next rescue, I am making it. So what do you think would happen if all the lifeguards were swimming to the screamers, shriekers, and sinkers? What do you think would happen if no one was watching the water? What do you think would happen if the "cooler" family took that moment to allow their little non-swimming 5 year old Johnny an unattended visit to the surf? And a wave knocked him off his feet? And he got tumbled under the water? And he hit his head? And he didn't resurface? All the lifeguards were in the water. No one is watching, not even the parents. How long before Johnny is recognized as absent? I've dealt with parents looking for their lost child and it is far from uncommon to get 30, 45, or 60 minutes as a response to the question, "How long has he been missing?" The trouble is I don't think Johnny can hold his breath that long.
Sounds morbid? Sure, I'm making a point. Sounds like bad parenting? I deal with it all the time. On a packed summer weekend, I was told (screamed at, actually) by a mother looking for her lost daughter, "She was playing in the sand in front of your tower! It was your job to watch her! Now earn your money and go find her!" I didn't take it personally. I'm sure the mother was as unaware of multiple rescues I had been making as she was of her daughter's location. "Ma'am, I am not a babysitter. My responsibility is all those at the beach, particularly those in the water. Now if I can get a description of your daughter we will do what we can to find her," was my tempered response. Her daughter was three towers down, still looking for sea shells. She didn't even know that she was lost. Kids... Or also appropriately, parents...
I'll go more in depth about lost children later, but for now let us return to pre-water assessment. When I scan the beach I am looking for, among other things:
Skin color - pale means sure as heck haven't spent any time at the beach or they wisely slather on the sunscreen and religiously reapply it. Red skin means they would rather invest in a dermatologist than a tube of the stuff. They, too, haven't been to the beach much, but unlike the lotion-lathered Morlocks, they have no clue as to the discomfort that awaits them that night.
Clothing - do they own a swim suit? 'Nuff said
Wetsuit - zipper in the front? You don't surf much do you?
Gait - staggering? Too much fun imbibing on the boardwalk means no fun on the beach. Alcohol and water do not mix. You get passive drownings with alcohol. The victims don't struggle at all. Just sink. Just take a nappy-nap in the middle of the surf. Think that is crazy? Ever seen a picture of someone passed out? My favorite is the guy with his face in the urinal. Yeah, I'm sure that made sense at the time, too.
Age - the very old and the very young can have difficulty in surf. Not always, but they can.
Disabilities - We got a guy. We call him One-legged Bob. He scares the crap out of every rookie because, well, he has one leg, and when he gets beyond the surf (which he does) he swims in a fashion as to appear as though he is constantly drowning. He's not. He's got one leg (no stump) and his other isn't great. Bob is an exception to the rule, as is Philippe Corizon who, limb-less, swam the English Channel in 2010 (http://www.wired.com/playbook/2010/09/channel-swim-amputee/) But as a rule of thumb it is important for lifeguards to be aware of obvious temporary and/or permanent impediments to play in the surf. My favorite is the guy with the full arm cast wrapped in a plastic bag heading on out to get him some waves.
Weight - as with age, the extremes are a concern. If you are so light a zephyr sends you a-tumblin' then expect much worse from the surf. If you are built like an offensive lineman but lack the conditioning, keep it shallow. I'm sure you don't want the embarrassment of being rescued, and, quite frankly, I'd rather not have to rescue you. You won't be pulling your weight back to the beach, I will. And, yes, I've seen many reedy or big men and women who own it in the surf. I'm not writing about them.
Flotation - legit surfers and body boarders do not need their boards in order to survive. They lose it? Well, they have a nice swim back to the beach. It's those who are utterly lacking in swimming skills and yet are utterly convinced that a piece of foam tethered to their wrist will keep them afloat and well beyond the reaper's grasp that concern the lifeguard. Why? Well, when they lose them, which they often do, they start drowning. How do you spot them? No wax on the surfboard and/or its leash around the wrist and/or a surfboard so aged and dinged as to suggest it was a recent garage sale "score" are several ways. Waterlogged, bent, and/or broken boogie boards with the leash around the ankle are others. A note on boogie boards: that $10-15 fabric-covered styrofoam special that you just bought from a street vendor or from your local supermarket? Yeah, that board... it's a piece of crap. And I am putting it kindly. Show up to the beach with that thing in tow and take off down the beach with it flipping erratically behind you is as clear a sign of ignorance as showing up to a white party dressed in red. Show up with one of those boards so broken that it makes you to appear to be riding a caterpillar in surf is even worse. It says, "I will be drowning in 5 minutes."
Now you know what we are looking for. Next, I'll share what we often see. Not all of it is pretty, but often it is humorous.
© Copyright 2011 David S. Carpenter. All Rights Reserved.
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