Today I saw a dude swan dive into the waves - a steep beach, shallow water, no idea where then next sandbar was.
I've done that before. Landed head-first in a sandbank. It felt like the stupidest thing I've ever done then, and it still ranks. A few centimetres of luck difference and I might not have walked away from it, even if I was still breathing. I think there were other people around me at the time, but none of them noticed, and thank fuck they didn't need to that time.
This time, watching this guy dive down the beach, over a wave barely up to his waist, my body tensed. I was 30 meters away, tired after a long walk, and carrying a heavy pack. I got ready to drop everything and sprint, watching to see if he'd come up in the next wave. To my left, a few steps behind him a few of his mates were jogging down after him.
I watched.
He came up after a few seconds, stood out of the trough, stumbled drunkenly and fell back into the next wave. I noticed as he jumped, one of his mates, a heavier set dude, and the back of group, tensed too. And as soon as he saw that stumble, he broke into a run. Others followed, but I wasn't a sure if they had a reason. As soon as I saw that run, I relaxed. I figured as long as there's someone to pull him out of the surf, we can deal with the rest later.
I watched.
With the running man 4 paces away, the first young guy stood up again, and flicked his hair around. He was still in control, there was no problem. The guy running saw this too, and his bolt changed fluidly into a lope, he laughed, and jumped over the next wave, next to his mate (in a way unlikely to cause spinal injury, sensibly). I don't think any of the others noticed, and he didn't seem to say anything to rebuke his mate.
I grinned.
It's a nice feeling knowing you're not going to have to deal with dragging a random stranger with a neck injury out of the water onto a beach with no easy access. It was even nicer - a privilege - to have been able to witness that subtle act of care
I think I've been in almost the same situation countless times, with my own mates, but when it's your mate at risk, you don't really have time to appreciate it how important paying attention is. This was a rare moment where I could witness it from the outside, without any personal attachment. It made my day, and it had already been a good one. One meaningless act of mild stupidity, one tiny, well paced act of awareness and caring, that most likely no-one else noticed, and definitely no one else will ever talk about.
I wanted to go up to him and thank him for that tiny little thing - what seemed to me the perfect example of positive masculinity - rushing to someone else's aid as required. But I had just spent the day traipsing through the back of Glenrock, was covered in sweat, with bleeding feed, and carrying a couple of kilos of old broken lilo I'd found in the forest. Didn't figure a dirty hippie running down the beach to gush praise on you in front of your mates (and the broader group further up the beach) would go down that well for a young Aussie male.
So I just smiled to myself, and kept walking down the beach, dragging my mossy lilo, and significantly more aware of the importance of awareness.