SeaWise

People come to Miami Beach for numerous reasons. Not least among them is that land meets sea. According to Darwin's theory of evolution, the ever-changing, fractal seashore was crossed eons ago by a malcontent fish, from whom we, homo sapiens, are descended. You are that fish's counterspirit. Doubtless it slithered onto the supercontinent here at South Beach, a point constant as land masses break up, drift and merge. You are daily called to plunge back ... you do not know why ... it is a cosmic command.


Morning

Glassy water reflects gray sky. Beauty explodes sans color. Water says "Come. I'll tone your body and clear your mind." Splash: liquid past your ears intimates, "Hello again."

Goggles keep salt sting out, let images in. You see no living things for awhile. No fish, no crabs, not even seaweed. Only the ubiquitous minidunes, stirred by yesterday's waves, glide by, via which you navigate parallel to shore. You settle into meditation-in-motion mode ... you're jetting above the Sahara at 37,000 feet ... you're in a spacecraft orbiting the deserts of Mars.

Soda bottle. Beer can. Booze bottle. Syringe. Oh God.

Ninety-six arm strokes equals 100 meters. (96 a.s. = 100 m. You've got it down to a formula. You know your body well.) You count by eights, imagining music as you go. Or poetry, if it fits ... 10 x 96 a.s. = 1 km.

Endorphins kick in at 500 m.

Thump! Your arm comes down on something decidedly nonliquid. You stop. Fluorescent bulb. Unbroken, it floats. You recall reading in some obscure publication that old fluorescent lamps can cause unhealable wounds should they break and cut you. How old is this one? You check. No date of manufacture.

Grab it ... slog out of water ... toss bulb in nearest trash can. Get it out of ocean, lest it nail you on your way back to your clothes and towel. Done with 500 m north ... turn ... now 500 m south.

Whack! Plastic pipe with faucet attached. H'mmm. Wonder who's doing without running water on their boat?

Slog. Toss. Cuss. All in a day's swim.

Zang! What the ... a jet ski buzzes you. They're supposed to stay out past the furthest orange buoys. They usually do. But ... it only takes one errant JSUI to do you in. Now your serenity is rippling a la the wake of the machine.

In ten minutes, you've come across symbols of a problem more dangerous to you than sharks, stingrays and man-o-war combined ... thrust into the ocean that belongs to the living earth, discourtesy of a few environmental rapists. "... to accept the things I cannot change ..."

Resolution 1. You will not rape the environment.

This vow made, serenity returns.

Minidunes pass. Hefty bag hovers--not! As you near it, it darts away. Leopard ray. Aha! You've seen something in the sea this morning that belongs there. It will be a good day. Now crabs dance on the sand beneath you. Sunlight slants through a break in the clouds; wavelet-refracted rays mingle with minidunes in moire.

It will be a good day.

Afternoon

Clouds have dissolved. South Florida overcast has patented the ability to vanish on a whim. A bit of sun -- not much, now! -- keeps face aglow and sanity intact.

Scan headphone radio, FM 88 to 108, back to 88, up to 108 again, etc. Nothing good. Tuning dial will soon wear out. You settle on a tune sung in passionate Spanish. Water now with hint of ripple as breeze is spawned by midday heat.

What's that drifting ashore? Brown hulk. Shape: stubby cylinder. Height: maybe four feet.  Oil drum. It's floating. Must be empty. What are you gonna do? Flip over. Good tune is playing. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Next day

Lunch with friend.

You: "I saw an oil drum wash ashore while I was lying out the other day."

Friend: "Not surprising."

You: "It was floating. Must've been empty."

Friend: "You hope."

You: "Was floating high. No oil in it. Didn't care to check, though."

Friend: "Good thing. Might've been toxic waste."

You: "Oh, H.P.!" (H.P. = Higher Power.) "That never occurred to me!"

H.P.: "What're you gonna do?"

That is the 64-billion-lifetime question. There are some things you have the power to change.

Resolution 2. You'll become an activist.

Sunny morning

Elaina of Clean Water Action sits in front of the Park Central Hotel, signing people for a day-long beach cleanup. I arrive on my bike and lock it up to a meter across Ocean Drive. No need to put money in the meter. Haven't gotten a single ticket yet, and I've lived here off and on for years. Mileage is good with bike: 35 mps (miles per sub -- with everything).

Elaina: "Oh, no."

Fran: "What?"

Elaina: "Gotta go talk to that lady." (Goes to parked station wagon. Converses with meter maid. Arrives back.) "They gave me a ticket."

Fran: "Oh yah? I thought someone had taken your space and you were telling her to please give them a ticket."

Elaina: "I had permission to park there. She didn't know ... she didn't know."

Fran: "I've read that the local meter maids are fat. She's not fat. (Long pause) Well, anyway, I wondered if I could ask you a few questions, and record them, you know, so I make sure I get it right for this article I'm doing called 'Save the Sea' or whatever."

Elaina: "Sure."

Fran: "How dirty is the water around here, really? How much trash is there, really?"

Elaina: "Well, go out and look at it. It's a mess. There haven't been any recent warnings, like beach closings ... that happens in some states every other day."

Fran: "What might get in the water to cause a beach closing?"

Elaina: "Bacteria. When there's a certain level of bacteria, then they'll issue a health warning and close the beach. Or when they find medical waste ..."

Fran: "Like syringes. I saw a syringe the other day. Does that surprise you?"

Elaina: "No. Did you call the county about it?"

Fran: "I just ignored it. It wasn't mine."

Elaina: "Ha, ha!"

Fran: "That's one of the things I like about South Beach. People laugh at my jokes here. I was afraid they'd think it was my syringe and then they'd arrest me." (Pause) "We know people are dumping stuff. Who can we write to, or call, or whatever? To get action? Or is it a waste of time?"

Elaina: "You mean about offshore dumping?"

Fran: "Well, you know, like when you run into a fluorescent bulb in the water, somebody had to put it there ... probably thrown overboard from a boat ... Nature didn't put it there."

Elaina: "The local authority is the county. And then you can go to the Florida Department of Environmental Regulation. Enforcement Division. It just depends on how far up you have to go. International commissions ..."

Fran: "Intergalactic commissions ... A lot of people have this mentality, like: 'I'm gonna be dead in 100 years, so who gives a hoot, and anyway the world will survive till then, so who cares.'"

Elaina: "That's apathy. That's not an answer."

Fran: "Apathy prevails. Can it be overcome?"

Elaina: "We need to be more aware ... more grass roots things ... election campaigns ... or the waste might just overwhelm us till we have a crisis and are forced to do something."

Fran: "Have you heard of the Gaia Hypothesis?"

Elaina: "Yeah, where the earth is a living entity."

Fran: "Like a giant cell."

Elaina: "Yeah. I gues it would be a ... what do you call it?  Coccus."

Fran: "Certainly not an amboeba."

Elaina: "Or a bacillus either."

Fran: "Coccus. Definitely. (Pause) Has it ever occurred to you that ... maybe ... we humans are like viruses in the cell of the earth? That the earth might see us as an invader?"

Elaina: "And the earth said to the sun, 'I need a three-million-year leave of absence.'"

Fran: "'And it was good.' How might the earth go about taking such a sabbatical?"

Elaina: "It would break down, like when a person gets an illness."

Fran: "Or ..."

Elaina: "What?"

Fran: "Or it might reject us. Develop antibodies so it can survive. A geoimmune reaction."

Elaina: "Ozone layer ... global warming ..."

Fran: "Yeah."

Later

We humans can get SeaWise. I think we will. It's only a question of when.

Resolution 3. You'll call the following numbers:

•To report illegal dumping and marine hazards in general: 536-5693 weekdays; 535-4314 nights and weekends (Coast Guard Marine Safety Office)

•Information about marine debris problem: 1-800-262-3567 (Center for Marine Conservation)

•Local information: 661-9623 (Clean Water Action)

Copyright 1998, 1999, 2000 by Francisco Carrera.