SHARKS & BUNS

The cold sea spray hits me full on, my body toasty, suddenly unwilling and unprepared for the icy water. The salty sea air doing wonders for my body wound tight, each droplet that lands on my skin feels like a tiny hug, urging me to surrender to the elements.

"No turning back," I say, watching him clench his teeth with each assault of the waves. His grin an invitation to dive in and leave the world behind.

I spy a wave with promise, its gentle curve building higher, steady and sure, gathering momentum like a secret about to be told. It hums with energy, a liquid heartbeat. I give my playmate a sideways glance, a look that says: I dare you.

Eyes locked, the wave rolls forward to greet me. I stretch out my body, surrendering to its pull. For a fleeting moment, I am weightless, carried away by currents, coddled by gentle waves, and reborn in its embrace. The world above dissolves into bubbles and light.

When I resurface, he’s there. hair plastered to his face, eyes glinting like and wild, the numbness hit out of him. Ready to play.
"Let's go!" he shouts above the roar of the waves. "Deeper!"
I grin. He knows me so well.

Then it comes...the sharp wail of a siren, slicing through the laughter and foam. It feels out of place in god’s playground where man and ocean, seagulls and sea creatures mingle freely. The sound doesn’t belong here, in rings in fear where freedom reigns.

 A shark has been sighted.

Up on Boyes Drive, the Shark Spotter stands sentinel, scanning the waters for danger. (On a side note, that’s an epic job title, right up there with “Park Ranger”, “Fire Fighters” or “Paramedic.” All action heroes, guardians under wild circumstances.

Within seconds, the ocean’s mood changes. Surfers, boogie boarders, swimmers ... every last one becomes alert. The sea that held us in its cold embrace suddenly feels vast and unknowable. The exodus is swift and strangely beautiful: hundreds of figures rising from the surf in a synchronized retreat. A wave of dripping wetsuits and sandy feet. I’ve never seen the ocean empty so fast, or with such reverence. “Rather safe than sorry” ripples through the crowd like a mantra.

Except in Jaws.

“Du-du, du-du, du-du-du-du-du-du-DU-DU-DU…” The theme song plays in my head, uninvited. I hum it softly, earning a nervous glance from the Frenchman trudging beside me.

“Tsk, tsk,” I mutter, my fun momentarily ruined.

The guy in the wetsuit, balancing his long surfboard, turns to me and smiles. His accent is thick but his tone is calm, amused. “The fish are feeding,” he says, nodding toward the horizon. “It’s going to be a while.”

“Feeding time, huh? Think I’ll join them,” I joke. My words drift away, half-lost in translation. My stomach rumbles, as if agreeing.

Maybe stopping at Olympia Bakery was fate. The scent of baked bread still lingers on my fingers: hot cross buns bursting with raisins, soft pretzels dusted with salt, warm from the sun. Nom nom, I think, as we settle onto damp beach towels beneath our umbrella, a splash of color against the pale sand.

The ocean before us is unrecognizable stripped of its human clutter, its chaos, its noise. A vast mirror reflecting the pure, unbroken blue of the sky. The absence of movement makes it somehow more alive.

And then, like a shadow gliding through light, we see it... and we all stand up in unison ... the reason for the siren. A dorsal fin, slicing elegantly through the calm, weaving along the full stretch of beach.

For a heartbeat, time stops.

"Thanks, shark," I say out loud, hoping the wind would carry my gratitude to this fearsome creature that by his very presence left a canvas of splendour sparkling in the midday sun for all of us to admire.

A sanctuary created for us on this day, a gift from mother nature.