Second in the summer school lessons series. For part 1, click here.
In July of 1990, I had a bad day. The plan called for heels dug into the hot sands of Athens, Greece accompanied by great friends while I gazed at crystal blue water as far as the eye could see. The reality? I had the water part. I had the friends part. The problem? They were as cranky as I was because crystal blue surrounded us as far as we could see on all sides.
Instead of the port call to Athens, among other popular locales, my buddies and I bobbed in the open ocean, captive on a naval destroyer off the coast of Africa. Civil war had erupted in Liberia and our ship, the fastest in the battle group, diverted in a frantic rush to lend assistance. Goodbye France, goodbye Spain, goodbye Greece.
After two months of continuous steaming in a square mile pattern far enough over the horizon so the only glimpse of the coast entailed the occasional mirage, stir crazy didn’t begin to describe us. There were bright spots.
One sailor threw a lure over the gunwale where it arced the vast distance to the water below to trail beside the ship. After a few sailors claimed the fisherman would catch nothing but a sunburn, the line buzzed. Fluorescent green and yellow flashed in the blue water, a mahi-mahi. The captain stopped the ship and dispatched the whaleboat, the only way to haul the huge fish on board. The whole ship ate well that night, the first fresh seafood in months, courtesy of John Nye, optimist and fisherman extraordinaire.
We also had swim call, a chance to jump off the side of the ship and float in the open ocean, the first ever in my two years aboard. The casual swim’s only downside came in the disturbing image of two sailors hovered 30 feet above us with machine guns to ward off hungry sharks. I had two separate hopes as I swam: one, I hoped there was no need to use the guns. Two, if there was a need, I hoped the sailors had outstanding aim.
But most days crushed us under the equatorial heat. On this day in July, I worked alone on the the ship’s large stern—my nose literally to the grindstone—armed with goggles, an ear protection headset, and a rotary grinder. You haven’t lived until you’ve sanded paint off the decks of a navy ship in 110 degree weather. As the sanding wheel cast sparks in every direction, I remember one thought spinning through my head:
I’d rather be any place on earth than here right now.
After a while, I grew tired of listening to myself gripe. I ripped off my goggles and ear protection, tossed them onto the shirt I’d peeled off earlier, and stepped to the side of the ship to clear my mind while a molten breeze singed the sweat off me. Something occurred that I’ll never forget.
On our rear quarter, port side between 7 and 8 o’clock, the ocean bubbled and frothed on the horizon. Initially, my mind couldn’t comprehend what I saw. Tidal wave? Undersea volcanic eruption? Feet welded to the deck, I studied it. Should I call the bridge to alert them? But alert them to what?
There are times in life—I hope you’ve glimpsed it too—when the world tilts and for a few, precious moments, the curtain of the universe sways open to reveal the workings behind it. At that moment, an overwhelming peace descends and you know, no matter what happened before, or what happens tomorrow, all will be fine because there is more to this world than meets the eye.
Hanging over the side of that ship, eyes wider than they’d ever been, one of those moments rushed me like never before.
Shooting from the water in long, graceful arcs, not one, not twenty, but over 300 dolphins raced toward me. I believe it was closer to 400, but am mindful of perceived exaggeration. I’m comfortable saying over 300 because should I err, I’ll do it on the low side.
The random synchronicity of so many dolphins arcing across the water, their school stretching wide across the horizon, growing larger as they bounded in playful leaps toward our ship, was the single most beautiful event of nature I’ve witnessed in my life.
Right before I opened my mouth to alert anyone within shouting distance, someone amidships beat me to it in a triumphant call. “Dolphins!”
I leaned over the side to peer along the edge of our ship as excited souls crowded its sides. The dolphins swept past the ship, parting to skirt our gunmetal gray insignificance that claimed a tiny spot in a vast ocean. So many sailors sprinted to the other side of the ship at the same time I half expected it to lean starboard under their shifting weight.
As we watched the dolphins leap their way to the opposite horizon, only one thought leapt through my mind.
There is no place on earth I’d rather be right now.
Cesare Pavese wrote, “We do not remember days; we remember moments.”
Truth speaks volumes. I didn’t have a bad day; I had a bad moment, followed by a glorious one I’ve carried with me all my life.
The summer school lesson I tucked away from the experience is we all straddle a fine line. Sometimes we focus so hard on the bad, we miss the good. I cringe to think of the sight and experience I’d have missed had I not taken that moment to clear my head. With the ear protection and noise from the grinder, I’d never have known something miraculous passed by me.
What negative fills your vision while the universe plays around you? I guarantee, if you pull your eyes from it and look hard enough around you, a miracle, be it large or small, is over the horizon ready to sweep into your life.
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Other posts you may enjoy:
Everyday Magic – Summer School Part 3
Indeed an amazing experience. Life experiences be it small or big are enough evidence that miracles do happen around you. Negative thoughts and negative feelings are around to distract you in appreciating the smallest miracle that you will witness.
You are a nice story teller. Thanks for sharing your experience. This blog will help a lot of people in realizing that God is everywhere and that miracles do happen everyday in small ways.
Jan Robert
Cindy,
Thanks for the compliment, and I’m so glad you are taking the writing class. It’s been a pleasure to have you in it.
Mark and JC, thanks for visiting.
Chuck,
My dad twisted your arm and made you come to the site, huh? Just kidding. Glad you liked the story. I’ll post another one soon. Been busy on my novel, but it’s done now so I’ll be able to write more on the blog.
The photo isn’t mine, it’s a stock photo, but I like it as much as you. Come back anytime.
Chris,
I only know of you through your dad’s occional prideful comments. (Truly love him & Ruthie)
I’m very impressed with the way you articulate and express your thoughts. This story is a constant design of dramatic visual effect. I could relate with each emotional high & low as you very clearly described each of your unique experiances. Can’t say enough about your ability to write and express yourself. GREAT STORY ! I could easily read a book of your "days and times". By the way, nice photo of the sunburst in the blue sky. Yours??? My kind of stuff…
Chuck
Amazing!
Nice article about summer school mate. Thanks for sharing
I must admit, I have also viewed situations in a negative way. But something within my heart pulls me out of it to then view the positive. It is a beautiful story, that you have written, about the hard labor on ship in the 110 degree temperature and then seeing the dolphins which raised your spirit to the euphoric level. You have an amazing way of expressing your situation. Being able to take your life experience and then pulling meaning out of it is a gift. Cindy Olivett Richter
Peter, There were a few times I thought we were goners. Never felt so exposed as that.
Max, Would love to see that video. Being in the middle of something like that is something everyone should get to experience.
I spent a hour surrounded by wild life in a similar fashion. I was in Bahia Tortugas, half way down the Baja penisula. I’d flown a volunteer doctor and dentist from the States down in my Cessna 210. Before we left, the mayor took me out on his boat on what he called the "ecological tour." After riding in his boat for 20-30 minutes, we arrived at a fishing boat that had become grounded on a small rock island. Surrounding it for a mile or two was the largest collection of birds and swimming creatures I’ve ever seen in my life. There were hundreds if not 1,000 seals covering the rocks and thousands of pelicans and other birds were in constant motion above our head. I shot lots of video–should dig it out. It was a magical moment.
Chris, Thanks for reminding me of the lightning storm. I was "concerned" about getting hit or one coming near us but after that bolt hit on the ridge above us I lost any fear I had. What a rush that was!
David, Always good to see you here. I still owe you an airplane ride. We’ll get it in the first of the year.
Kim, I’m enjoying the Christmas Memories posts. Keep them up.
Dena, Your comments mean a lot coming from a soon-to-be-famous author. When does the book come out again?
Jeff, See comment six.
Peter, Thanks for having Dan sign the book. It was a big hit. Sooner or later I’m going to write about our Green River trip. There’s a story brewing about the wicked lightning storm that caught us.
Carol, I recall when you told me you were taking your granddaughter to swim with the dolphins. That may be what stirred my thinking on this one. Your novel arrived from Amazon two days ago. I look forward to diving into it when I get my novel done. I’m on the home stretch and very excited. Also, congrats on your "appearance" on the Oprah Winfrey show. Great exposure for you.
DF, Sorry for your troubles, but I know it will strengthen your already solid relationship with your son. I’m also sure there is a story in it for your book. Keep writing.
Emily, Looking forward to seeing you and your leopard clips Sunday. I have another reading gig for us.
Chelsea, Thanks for the compliment. Your new website looks great. Look forward to seeing the finished product.
John, Glad you liked the post. The memory of you hooking that fish will always stay with me. Also, how could I forget the haze gray paint dust that coated us inside and out? I’m probably still coughing it up.
Veronica, Yes, life passes by quickly. We need to make the most of it. I have trouble believing the day I saw the dolphins was almost 20 years ago.
Reading through your comments and they confirm what I wanted to share with you Chris, inspiration….your post is thought provoking and inspiring. Cherishing the special moments in life whether on a large or small scale is what makes life fulfilling. Sometimes life seems to pass us by quickly, though I have found that the more I aware of the good moments, the more content I am. No use in dwelling in the negative, there is so much to be positive about 🙂
Very true about moments. There was a lot of things I disliked about the Navy, but never a day went by that there wasn’t a positive moment….. if nothing other than the granduer of the open ocean on a clear moonless night. Thanks for remembering one of my moments and making it even more special for me in the fact you thought to write about it.
And just a thought, there are times in my life and I am sure there have been a few in yours, where the sweet drone of a grinder, sparks filling the hot equator air and the acid metal taste of haze gray paint dust in your throat woud have been heaven in comparison to the existing moment. And thats the way it goes, no sense in complaining; because no matter how bad it becomes, this to shall pass………..
That was beautiful writing as well as a beautiful story. Thank you for your gift.
Great writing and imagery Chris. You are right, all we have is this instant … good or bad, always fleeting. Thanks for this post. Emily
I’ve been dealing with a difficult situation for over 2 weeks now, it feels like an eternity. My adult son’s ex-girlfriend is stalking him, us. He’s living with me so I find myself equally on edge and rattled. We’ve called the cops twice now. It’s been unpleasant and we are both a bit fearful of her instability. Jumping at outdoor noises, wondering if she’s watching the house, us as we move around
The other night I started a new jigsaw puzzle, an Edward Gorey piece, quirky and odd.. People falling out of the sky, high melodrama. We were able to laugh about the morbidity Gorey reveals in his work and make a few lighthearted jests about our drama. It helped to reframe what truly feels like drama as well as give us a way to laugh while expressing fears indirectly.
I’m trying now to look at positive bits of the day, celebrate the absence of drama while moving through my day as if this isn’t happening. it helps.. this post helps. Thanks.
The drama feels like a lifetime.. I wait for the moment when it becomes just that, a blip in time, a moment.
Chris, I’ve loved every post, and yet as I read each one, I think, "Wow! This is the best ever!" That thought swept over me as I watched the dolphins emerge to shift your focus to the positive treasures that abound in our universe.
We have a deal with our grandchildren that when they turn ten, they get a Grandmommy and Grandpa Only Trip. We took the first one to Hershey, Pennsylvania, to eat more chocolate than any child would ever be allowed to eat with a parent on board. We took the second child to Florida to swim with the dolphins. She had suffered from night terrors as a little girl, and I read that swimming with dolphins can have a healing effect on children with emotional issues. We had a wonderful trip, and there is something about dolphins; whether you are swimming with them, kissing them on the nose, or watching them arc across the water to sweep away the anxiety mounting on a Navy ship. Thank you for sharing your story with us. Whatever difficulties surround us, we can always find a magical moment if we open our eyes, ears, hearts, minds, and souls to it. Reading your insightful stories always provides me with a magical moment to start the day. Thank you.
Glad you all like it. I’d been thinking about this post for several weeks and given how the universe works–and the magic of Facebook–in the last week I’ve connected with many friends from the Navy, several whom I’d been trying to find for 20 years. I’d always searched Facebook as well as google, but they were never there. Last week, I get a Facebook message from one of them and when we spoke on the phone, he said, "I’ve been trying to find you for 20 years."
Jeff, some of the other memories I have of that cruise are you and I sitting for hours, manning the 50 caliber machine gun on the upper deck, talking about all the things we’d do when we got out. Being 40 years-old was a lifetime away.
Chris – great story. I will tell it to my kids tonight. Something good could happen in any siutation!
So so very true. The moments not the days. Funny, I remember the exact day you speak of. There were many other moments during that cruise that have had an impact on my life. Those experiences and the friends that we shared them with are what have shaped us. Thanks again Chris for the perspective
I’m counting this as my new favorite post of yours. Started my day the right way. Thanks.
well said. i knew there would be dolphins – well not really, but i’m delighted there were,
i just spoke to our team at work this morning about how "the grass is always greener…" and I challenged us to let our moments of dissatisfaction serve as a trumpet sound that we can be and make life better. there seems to be something in us that knows that there is always value in life, if we are willing to find it. sometimes that value is just over the horizon – sometimes the horizon comes to us, in the waves.
Great story Chris.
It is amazing how many times we focus on the negative and miss opportunities for the extraordinary all around us. If we can be good finders, the miracles happening everyday will not pass us by. Thanks for helping us peel away.