BeachAlert File #10

Down by the pier, the waves are crashing halfway up the pilings.  The tide is high.

Oh, look.  Somebody’s surfboard got away.  See the little fins sticking out of the water?  Hey, that’s no surfboard.  It’s swimming by itself.  And it’s got a tail.  No, two tails.  It’s a couple of big sea animals.

They’re probably not sharks.  They’re not cruising, grim and purposeful, like sharks do.  No, they’re not out to eat.  They’re out to play.  But they’re playing right where we’d ordinarily expect to see surfers.

“Hey, guys, you’re in awful close.”

“I know.  The tide is high enough that we figured we could get away with it.  We heard you thinking loudly, so we just came in to say hi.”

“Well, that’s pretty cool.  But you don’t want to get beached here.  What are you anyway, dolphins or whales?”

“We don’t know.  We’re just glad to be here.  Going down to Baja.  See ya.”

They dive beneath the waves and surface near the end of the pier, moving south.


I stop to watch them pass.  Several others follow them, cavorting beyond the breakers.  Wow.  They don’t even need passports.  Good thing they don’t.  They haven’t got any pockets to put them in.

Lynn Fountain Campbell

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