A smallish powerboat came into the harbor right before sunset. I watched as they anchored. The older man immediately put on his snorkel and flippers to dive the anchor, a fairly common practice in Bahamian anchorages. What caught my eye was that he proceeded to lap the harbor with strong overhand swim strokes. He went quite a distance before turning back. The whole time his wife stood at the bow watching him.
His powerful swimming and commitment reminded me of my father. When we went to the beach my father would go in way past the breakers and swim just as strong and steady as this fellow. It is one of the few times I saw him do anything but physical labor and read. My father always had more than one paying job. He built our last family home himself. Seeing him swim so strong and far was quite a novelty. Reminding me of his time in the Navy. His time before he was Paul, the family man.
This fellow’s wife at the bow was patient, seemingly in awe of the blue depths as all are who anchor in the Bahamas.
I often think how crazy my parents would say I am to be cruising the Caribbean. But this video of a strong older fellow swimming and his peaceful wife made me realize just how much my parents would have loved the Bahamas, if they would have only allowed themselves the time and space to experience it.
They say each generation gets a little better. My parents gave me the resources to come to this place. These resources exposed me to people who had bigger life visions. Now I have the time and space to experience the beauty that they did not. Now I have the wisdom to remember them because of the visual video I gratefully watched. Another example of how the senses and memory are so intertwined.
Coincidentally, if there is such a thing, this visual scenario was recollected on the anniversary of my father’s burial.