For the Love of the Sea

When I was in 9th grade, I went on a week-long Biology class field trip to Spieden Island--a bus, a ferry, and a motor boat away from land-locked Eastern Washington where I grew up. It was during this trip, I now believe, that I first felt the draw of the sea.

As our caravan of eight-man motor boats pulled up to the island, a group of awkward and giddy adolescents clamored over each other onto a wobbly wooden dock. It was at this point that someone dropped their flashlight into the water and James Comer, without so much as a second's hesitation, dove right in, Air Jordans and all. That's just the kind of guy James Comer is: he wouldn't think twice about fully submerging himself in the freezing cold Puget Sound water to save someone's four-dollar flashlight. Amazing. Plus, it was like one o'clock in the afternoon--arguably the furthest point in the day from when one might need to have a flashlight out. I saw James Comer two years ago at my ten-year high school reunion, and I am confident that if the situation presented itself again, his reaction would be identical.

I was catapulted into nostalgia-dom over this phenomenal week of fascinating sea-life discovery while I read, no, devoured, The Highest Tide.  Jim Lynch's Puget Sound-based novel features Miles O'Malley, whose internal conflict over the sea and all of her creatures would give even Melville a run for his money. Miles is an abnormal 13-year-old who spends his days and nights combing the flats of Skookumchuck Bay for sea-faring creatures of all varieties. Something about this kid reminds me of Pi Patel (Life of Pi), what with his voracious thirst for scientific knowledge. But instead of a tiger for a friend, Miles has Kenny Phelps, an air-guitar-playing kid obsessed with girls and sneaking into places he's not allowed. You know, normal teenage stuff--which makes him a perfect foil for our pal Miles. Anyway...this book not only charmed the pants off of me, it reminded me of the vastness of the ocean and all that lies beneath. It made me glad I live so close to the beach--not a SoCal beach with bikinis and beach umbrellas and a freeway running close by, but a rocky, isolated, Pacific Northwest beach literally just down the street from my house.