Dear Graham,
Today was a magical day. We drove to the beach in two cars—Tom in our new Chery, and our friend Rentia and I in her bright blue Jimmy. After a long wait and much anticipation, the three of us—Tom, Rentia, and I—all got our new cars on the very same day, which somehow made the adventure feel even more special.
We went to a beautiful beach south of Destiladeros. The beach seemed endless, with wide stretches of soft sand, shallow swimming areas, and rocky tide pools. The ocean was wild and alive, with giant crashing waves rolling toward shore beneath a cloud-filled sky. Beyond the beach was fenced nesting area for turtles and long expanses of sandy ocean bottom where you could walk far out into the surf.
Rentia, who grew up on the beaches of South Africa and has spent the past eleven years living in Australia, understands the ocean in a way I do not. As a child, she learned how to dig for white clams by pushing her toes and feet deep into the wet sand and feeling for the shells hidden beneath the surface. She told us stories about gathering clams with her family and explained that once collected, the clams must sit overnight in salt water so they can expel the sand from their shells. After that, they can be steamed and savored with hot garlic butter.
At the rocky tide pools, we watched an old woman harvesting black muscles that clung tightly to the rock walls. She carried a hammer, a metal prying tool, and a couple of white buckets. With practiced skill, she chipped the muscles from the rocks and dropped them into the buckets one after another. Watching her felt like witnessing an ancient tradition carried on by the sea.
For one brief moment, right before we entered the water, it began to gently rain. Rentia looked at me with the deepest delight and said, “Oh, rain and an ocean swim.” It was one of those perfect times that could never be planned.
The waves were powerful and intimidating. At times the ocean completely overwhelmed me. Tom, though, seemed to know exactly how to meet each wave at the perfect moment, riding over them on his boogie board like a cowboy on a bucking bull until he safely reached calmer water.
Rentia was also calm and completely at home in the ocean. She knew exactly when to dive beneath a giant wave and when to leap gracefully over one. I was less at home, out of my element as the waves raced toward me. One slammed into me just as I jumped to meet it. Another completely swallowed me and pushed me under, filling my nose with salt water. Rentia gave me little tips, and Tom encouraged me to try riding the waves with my boogie board. The waves felt much too big for me and my little board, but I still loved trying—diving under the waves, jumping over them, and laughing at myself along the way.
Eventually, the three of us found a quiet pool of water created by the rocks and waves. The pool had a sandy bottom, and the water was cool and gentle. We sat together and let the water flow softly over us. In that little pool, I finally felt calm and completely at home.
At just the right moment, Rentia like an all-knowing mother, announced, “That’s enough sun and sand for today,” and I suggested we drive to Punta Franco for lunch. Punta Franco is a delightful seaside hotel with an outdoor restaurant overlooking miles of sand and sea, a vast blue ocean filled with white waves, and a brilliant sunlit sky above. Dark rock formations stretched out below us where waves crashed and spilled into tide pools. We ordered fish and rice and stumbled over our Spanish words in a way that somehow seemed to charm and slightly intimidate our waitress at the same time.
With the roaring surf, the endless sand, the tide pools full of muscles, and Rentia sharing her knowledge of the sea, the whole day felt unforgettable.
And Graham, throughout this magical day, I thought of you from time to time. I imagined your little feet running through the sand, your laughter at the edge of the waves, and your wonder at the tide pools and shells. I hope that someday soon I can bring you to this magnificent beach because I believe that even at your young age, you would love it.
Love,
CC
