How could you grow up watching Flipper every week and not be passionate about the ocean?
For what ever reason, I have always loved being in, on, and under the ocean. As early as first grade, I knew I wanted to surf and scuba dive. Most of my childhood memories somehow involved the ocean. Even though, as a child, I didn't have regular access to the beach, this passion continued to grow in me. I fed the passion by reading every book and magazine that our library system had about oceanography, surfing, diving, and open ocean sailing. When other kids were building model cars, I built a model SEALAB II (SEALAB was the U.S. Navy's underwater version of NASA's Apollo program, with aquanauts living underwater for extended periods). I watched television documentaries about the ocean and every other ocean related show. My favorites were reruns of Sea Hunt and the original Flipper. What could possibly be cooler than living next to the Florida Keys, having a pet dolphin, and travelling everywhere by skiff or paddleboard?
How could you possibly have a better childhood than these kids? Note the cutoff jean swim trunks. I remember wearing those. When you got too tall for your jeans, your mom cut them off and you wore them as shorts or swim trunks. Now people pay extra for that look.
It probably helps that I grew up in the 60's and 70's, a time when kids could still be kids. It was a unique time in world history when most of us in the developed world were free from concerns about pestilence, plague, tyranny, and extreme poverty. Our families enjoyed something that was previously only enjoyed by royalty, leisure time. It was a time when people sought adventure in nature for its intrinsic rewards, not to get sponsors or affirmation on social media. It was a time when 16 year old Robin Graham set out to sail around the world singlehanded. He didn't want any official recognition but for financial reasons reluctantly allowed National Geographic to do a series of articles covering his progress. I read every one of those articles and dreamed of following in his steps. Finally, being during the baby boom, it was a time when there were lots of boys my age so I was able to find a few who shared my interests ( one of whom later got into drugs, dropped out of school, shot his mom with a speargun, and spent time in a mental hospital; but that's another story).
Who knows how many people and adventures were inspired by 16 year old Robin Graham setting sail around the world in the 24' sloop Dove?
Who knows what causes some of us to be passionate about certain interests, while most people are content to dabble in a variety of interests. For me, it certainly didn't come from my parents; they were absolutely not ocean people. But, being good parents, they did make sacrifices to support me in my passions. My dad drove me and my friends to the beach, and other ocean related events, when his busy schedule allowed. He would either drop us off, to be picked up later by another parent, or he would sit and wait. On the days he waited, he pack a couple beers and a folding beach chair. He'd sit and drink his beers while we played in the ocean. When the beer was gone, it was time to leave (by then, having no wetsuits or body fat, we were usually freezing). My parents didn't disparage my interests or try to push me into something more lucrative or something that would improve their social standing. They accepted, and supported, me for who I was.
I tried to raise my two daughters to share in my love of the ocean. Their mother was also a water person and both our girls could swim underwater before they could walk. We also tried to expose them to a variety of outdoor activities. In addition to taking them board surfing, body boarding, and snorkeling, we took them hiking, rock climbing, camping, skiing, and sailing (on one momless camping trip we shot guns, played with fire, and explored abandoned mine shafts all in one day). We tried to let them discover their interests and aptitudes. Following Mark Twain's advice to "Never let schooling interfere with getting an education", I took them out of school for beach trips and travel. As much fun as it is to play in the ocean with good friends, it is even better with one of your kids.
I tried not to push them too much in any direction and I tried to scale my expectations to their abilities. I tried, but I didn't necessarily succeed. To this day my girls still jokingly complain about "mandatory fun" time with dad. They remind me of all the hours they spent sitting on the beach because dad wanted just 20 more minutes in the water. They probably won't admit it, but I think they look back fondly at the evening ocean swim/beach BBQ sessions, the surf camping trips, and the Baja ocean adventures (including the youngest being set adrift in a life raft because her and her friend wouldn't behave).
I'm not unduly influencing my grandson's recreational choices; every 20 month old needs a dive mask.
Both of my daughters are now adults and both are comfortable and competent in the ocean. They are not as passionate about the ocean as I am ( they're normal), but they both enjoy it when they can. Neither gets as much time in the ocean as she would like, due to careers, family, and the lack of affordable housing near the ocean. Both enjoy other forms of outdoor recreation as well. Soon they will be teaching their kids how to clear their snorkel, how to paddle out, how to spot a rip current, how to make S'mores, and how to find the North Star. They didn't catch my passion, but that really doesn't matter. I couldn't love them anymore than I do. My dad didn't live long enough to play a role in my girls developing their interests, or to see me in my interactions with them. God willing, I will be there to share my joy in the ocean with my grandkids, and to share in the adventure of their parents passing along their skills to them and supporting them in their interests.
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