A day on the water

I was just off the coast of Norfolk with my best mate Louisa. We had paddle boards and had gone out really far to get away from all the parents and kids that frequented the beach.

It was a beautiful day for Britain, the sun was shining off the water and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Though of course Norfolk being Norfolk there were a fair number of ripples on the water.

Louisa and I were chatting about everything and nothing, the way that you do with a best friend. It was a beautiful day, but I didn’t think I’d remember it for the rest of my life.

I would remember it for the rest of my life, not because of the sun in the sky, but because of what was lurking in the water.

On that beautiful summer day, as I looked up from my casual conversation, I saw through the low rising waves a fin in the water.

At first, I was excited, I thought it was a dolphin. The prospect of encountering a playful sea creature filled me with anticipation. However, then I looked over at my friend and she looked white as a sheet.

“Shark…” She said waveringly.

“What?” I asked.

“Shark!” She cried.

I was not foolish enough at this point to go into depth about my dolphin day dreams.

The shark was not coming straight at us and in truth it was not particularly big, but I was nervous nevertheless. Especially as it started to circle our paddle boards.

“Are you bleeding?” Asked Louisa.

“No.” I said.

“They like the smell of blood.” She told me.

“I’m not bleeding.” I said and nervously looked towards the shark, but it just kept circling, seeming almost reluctant to approach.

It was then I saw them. Schools and schools of jellyfish. They were creating a barrier between us and the shark, and fierce as it seemed it clearly didn’t want to cross this sting infested gelatinous mess.

So, there we were, hemmed in by a circling shark and a jellyfish armada.

From then on, we waited, for what I don’t know, but there was little else we could do at that point and we were temporarily safe enough.

It seemed like an eternity balancing on sun scorched boards in the summer heat, but it paid off. Someone must have seen us and called the coast guard because after a seeming agitated eternity, a RNLI boat glided easily into the jellyfish mess and took us on board.

“You girls shouldn’t have come so far out.” Said the, really rather old, seaman: “Why are you so scared of jellyfish? You could have reached the shore easily without them even stinging you that badly with that paddle board of yours.”

“I’m not,” I bristled: “there was a shark. Look.”

“That shark has been in these waters for years.” He said: “She never hurts anyone; she’s looking for fish.”

“Then why was she circling us.” I asked.

“Because you’ve got scampi stuck to the bottom of your paddle board.” He said laughing.

I went bright red, as he held up the offending bit of fish for me to see. And then both me and my friend burst out laughing too in a mixture of relief, embarrassment and amusement.

The seaman creased over double and needed a fair while to stop chuckling and ferry us home.

I remember it to this day.

They say you always remember a brush with death, but you also always remember when you’ve shown yourself to be a bit of a foolish land lover.