Beware the Treacherous Tides...

So, Kenny got here last week.  We like Kenny.  Not just because he saved Geri’s life last year.  But, actually we ARE kind of grateful to him for it.

Kenny lives in Bozeman, Montana where he has a carpentry and remodeling business.  It’s mostly kitchen & bath make-overs and lots of roofing after their big hail storm last year .  But it keeps him busy and physically active…translation: fit, trim, nimble, and right in the zone of a middle weight boxer, say 160 lbs plus or minus a few ounces.  That nimble part makes him ideally suited for his favorite activity:  surfing.

The carpenter/contractor bought his condo here in El Coco several years ago, when they were still cheap, before they got expensive, and then got cheap again.  His main attraction to the Pacific west coast of Costa Rica was the endless string of beaches,  many of which are known as some of the best surfing spots in the world.

Several of them, just a stone’s throw to the south, are gorgeous, white sandy stretches that invite big Pacific rollers to crash onshore in an unrelenting cascade of aggressive surge and explosive spray followed by their silent retreat, as though embarrassed for all the commotion they caused.  Many such beaches are so devoid of humans as to feel unreal, as though the planet had been vacated, and you, the visitor, didn’t receive the notice to abandon the world.  Others, those that attract tan bodies in bikinis and young boys with boogie boards, are so populated they actually have life-guards like there were at the municipal swimming pool when we were kids.

The downside to these Pacific ports of paradise is that there can be, and usually are, some severe and extremely dangerous rip tides with a vise-like grip and the power of a locomotive engine.   Numerous people drown in these waters every year.  Although she knew of the dangers, Geri, who was out way too far and way too deep, clearly thought she was wearing her bullet-proof bathing suit that sunny afternoon and Kenny just happened to be near her when one of the tigress tides snatched her from the calm and proceeded to whisk her helplessly, swiftly into its netherland of darkness.

Not close enough to intervene physically, Kenny witnessed the vile act of the sea and being way outside of earshot, he instantly raised his clinched fist holding it as far skyward as possible, signaling to the observant life-saver atop his seaside perch that someone was in the process of drowning.  In seconds the lifeguard leaped from his pedestal and hit the surface of the ocean with purpose.  Lying on his stomach atop a super-sized surfboard, he skillfully paddled with unimaginable speed, skittering across the water and through the waves like a crazed insect.  In short order, he had extracted Geri from the jaws of certain demise and gotten her safely onto the rescue board some 300 yards from shore.

Had it not been for Kenny whose experience surfing in treacherous waters had taught him the universal signal for lifesaving assistance, Geri would surely not be among us today.  Ironically, we did not know our surfer friend / condo neighbor was even at that beach in Tamarindo that day.  Nor did Kenny know that we were at that particular beach on that particular day.  It just happened that he wound up, at precisely the right moment, in the general vicinity of Geri’s near catastrophic departure and knew the protocol to initiate the action that saved her life.  So, yep, we like Kenny.