DEEP WATER TEST

Childhood memories are an invaluable source of inspiration.

Luckily for me, when my brothers and I were growing up, my grandparents had just bought a summer cottage on the bay in Avalon, NJ, thus giving us a lifetime of salt water memories.  Sunscreen, Noxema and salty sea air were the scents of summers, the ‘caw, caw’ cry of the gulls our soundtrack. We spent endless hours romping and splashing in the shallow end at high tide, digging for treasure in the mucky shore at low tide, going for boat rides, learning how to swim, and once we were old enough, jumping off the end of the dock. But before we were allowed to do that, we had to pass the deep water test.

I’m so happy my rite-of-passage story has found a home in The Roasted Beat Creative Arts and Literary Magazine for Avalon and Stone Harbor. Please click the links to see photos of the Cupcake and life on the bay in Avalon in the late 1960’s/early 1970’s.

DEEP WATER TEST

Jenny woke up early. She inhaled a deep breath of salty sea air. Today was the day!

“Good morning, chickadee,” said Grandpa, “it's a great day for a swim.”

Jenny was taking her deep water test. If she passed, Grandpa would let her jump off the dock with her older brothers. If she didn’t… it would be a repeat of last summer, when Will and Max had teased her endlessly.

Jenny and Grandpa walked to the bay where the Cupcake was tied up.

Grandpa climbed aboard and got the oars ready, as Jenny waded into the bay.

“It's warm, Grandpa!” Jenny said. Then more quietly, “I hope I’ll make it this time.”

“You will Jen. You’ve practiced all summer. Believe in yourself.

Just say the word and I'll shove off. You're in charge.”

Am I in charge? Jenny thought. She looked across the bay to the dunes. They looked so far away. She had easily made it to the other side last summer. But could she make it back this time? Butterflies fluttered in her tummy.

You can do this, Jenny told herself. She took a deep breath. “Ready, Grandpa!”

 She dove in and began to swim.

Jenny felt strong swimming alongside Grandpa and the Cupcake, whose oars gurgled a comforting rhythm  slap, splash, ga-plonk

The water was warm, the sun was shining…she was doing it!

Breathe, stroke, kick, breathe, stroke, kick

 “Looking good, Jenny. You're swimming like a seal,” cheered Grandpa. Jenny could hear the smile in Grandpa's voice. She kicked a little harder.

Breathe, stroke, kick, breathe, stroke, kick

 “We're halfway there,” said Grandpa.

Slap, splash, ga-plonk

 Jenny felt she could do anything with her salt water Grandpa rowing beside her. He knew everything about the ocean, boats and life on the bay.

Soon, Jenny brushed the mucky bottom.

 She’d made it to the other side!

Standing up, she turned to look at their home across the bay. She could see Will and Max sitting on the dock. Would she be able to make it back this time? The fluttery butterflies were back, banging in her belly.

She had felt like such a baby last summer when Grandpa had to row her home. Will and Max had teased her and called her, “baby chickadee.” She’d show them.

“How are you feeling, Jen? One more lap,” said Grandpa.

Jenny's legs felt like oak trees, and she was out of breath. Then she pictured herself jumping off the dock and splashing Will and Max.

I’m in charge.

“Ready, Grandpa!” Jenny dove back in and headed across the bay for home.

Breathe, stroke, kick, breathe, stroke, kick

 “Halfway there,” said Grandpa, rowing evenly next to her.

Slap, splash, ga-plonk

Then, just like last summer, Jenny felt herself running out of gas, like Grandpa’s pickup truck that time.  She slowed her pace and looked at Grandpa in the Cupcake. The butterflies were frantic, and she was tired.

“I’m not going to make it, Grandpa. This isn’t going to be my year after all.”

 “You can do this Jen,” he said. “You’re strong.”

 Jenny thought about all of her practicing. She was strong. And she definitely was not a baby chickadee. She took a deep breath. “Let’s do this Grandpa!”

Breathe, stroke, kick, breathe, stroke, kick

Slap, splash, ga-plonk  

The music of the oars calmed her nerves. The butterflies felt it too, and slowed their flight.

As she swam, they floated away, one by one, up, up, up to the sky.

She felt buoyant. She was in charge.

Breathe, stroke, kick, breathe, stroke, kick

 Her heart began to pound. This was it. Her hands touched the familiar muddy bottom.

 “You did it Jen! You’re a champion chickadee!”

Grandpa jumped out of the Cupcake, swooping Jenny into a big, wet bear hug.

Nothing felt better than that hug from her salt water Grandpa.

Except – CANNONBALL!!