A Powerful Element

On Sunday, August 8th, the waves in Long Beach, NY were pumping. About 5-7 foot faces, extremely strong rip current, low tide, and windy. The sun was out; it was a beautiful beach day. Crowds of people were out and about, enjoying their Sunday afternoon. I missed my 3PM softball game at Sun & Surf to spend time with my girlfriend at the beach.


We entered the beach at Indiana Street around 1PM. There's one beach section towards The Sands beach club, where there are no lifeguards, and you're able to surf. Walking down at the shoreline with Lilli and Jared, my surfboard in one hand and my beach chair in the other. I was wearing board shorts and a T-shirt, had my glasses on and backpack strapped.

When the waves are good, I cannot take my eyes off them. I marvel at the curling and non-stop pounding energy...it's truly mesmerizing. As a former lifeguard (or formerly paid lifeguard, because you never lose your life-saving skills) I noticed two young males, between 7-10 years old, getting swept across the beach. And getting swept away fast.

At this point, they were about 100 yards away from the jetty. Their heads were bobbing under the water, most likely looking for footing. At that moment, I recognized that these kids were drowning, and just then they raised their hands towards the beach in an attempt to notify anyone of the peril they were in. I was already waist deep in the water with no "paid lifeguard" in sight.

The strong, powerful waves were breaking just past the jetty, of which these kids were being swept into. They were using all of their might to fight the current. I finally reached the first kid, literally grabbing him from under the water, and tucked him under my arm. He was exhausted because he felt like a pile of jello.

I screamed to the other kid, who was a bit farther out and away from me, "I'm coming, we're going around the jetty!" I wanted to calm him down and make him stop fighting the current. I swim to him and stopped at an arm’s length away, never taking my eyes off him. Boom, a waves crashes into us and now we're under water directly in front of the sharp, jagged jetty. I thought a collision or injury was imminent. Fear stricken me. Rumbling, then silence. My lungs ache to exhale. Death, waiting.

We finally come up and take a breath. The black, inanimate rocks are immense and mysterious. The same "safe" rocks that I snorkel around when the ocean is calm. The same "important" rocks that hold the beach together. The same "dangerous" rocks that cause pain when you crash into them. I grab the second kid and tuck him under my other arm. He's also exhausted from the fight. Unfortunately, I had no floatation device. My board was on the beach.

With two kids under my arms, we're making our way around the jetty. Boom, another monster wave rocks us. All three of us are underwater. The wave passes, I get my footing and surface for air with these kids still under my arms. We finally passed the jetty; it's about stomach to chest deep for me. Obviously a bit deep for these young lads. I look back at the jetty and notice the Town of Hempstead (TOH) lifeguard struggling to stay afloat as he's making his way towards us. I thought for a second at the humor of me saving the lifeguard from drowning.

I carry these two kids to shore where I see groups of people waiting. Most were panic-stricken; probably the families I thought. Got to the shoreline and releases them from my grasp, they ran into the arms of their families. I walk back to Lilli, Jared and my pile of stuff that I threw on the ground. People surrounded me and thanked me. They said I did a great job; I appreciate their comments. I look down, and notice that a bird pooped on my board. I cracked a joke to ease the tension. I just saved two lives.

After picking up my stuff, we began walking to our original destination. The crowds clapped as I walked away. I bowed because my hands were occupied. I surfed for hours, thanking God for allowing me the opportunity to save these kids. Just another day at the beach.