Long Island Girls love the ocean; period. My earliest childhood memory is of being in the surf with my Dad and having a wave crash over our heads. I was not frightened; my Dad held me and I felt secure. I was five.
Then came "Jaws". It was embarrassing to admit that "fiction" had the power to curb my enthusiasm for the surf; so, I made up other excuses. You know: the undertow is too strong; my left calf hurts; the waves are too low; the waves are too high; etc. I was 29.
Enter Cape Cod, where we spent many vacations with our kids, as they grew. We never saw a gray seal in Cape waters. I was still young.
Ah, but the Times They Are A-Changin' (BD). About ten years ago, occasional sightings began to occur. Tour boats took to the seas to find clusters of seals bathing on Provincetown or Chatham rocks. Now, as we lounge or walk, we are accompanied by herds of grays, just a few shown in my photo taken last summer. Where there are seals are there not sharks? "Jaws" doesn't seem like such a lame excuse anymore. Age is irrelevant!
Watch those waters.
