A journey to the toilet...

‘Camp farther down the beach’ I said

‘It’ll be quieter’ I said,

Walking what seemed like 10 miles to a toilet wasn’t exactly fun. Seeing the trash along the beach was even less so.

I bitch about people as I start picking up the trash left behind from people, or washed on the beach from the tide. I figure I’m headed that way anyway might as well do something useful. Found a handled potato sack full of sand in a pile of seaweed, and use it as the trash bag for the next half hour or so, emptying it in the barrels along the dunes when it gets to heavy to carry. All of a sudden as I’m picking up what looks like an old balloon…it doesn’t deflate.

I had just picked up, a baby man of war.

Realizing what I had done, realizing I could possibly die, if I do this wrong…I stand up, and fling it into the ocean and run for shore.

Ok, man of war, got it be more careful about what you pick up.

As I continue, away from the surf. I start finding among the refuse and old bottles, some of the prettiest intact seashells I have ever seen, most of which only compare to when a hurricane hits and washes things ashore. The more trash I picked up, the more I found. Almost like a tiny gift for people who cleaned up a little.

Finally make it to the toilets about an hour later as the sun is beginning to set. On my way back I still comb the beach but not as intently I watch as the stars come out peeking through the clouds and the glow of a town can be seen on the horizon. Then I look down…

IT’S A FREEKING JELLYFISH THE SIZE OF A HUBCAP!

I’m looking at it trying to see if it’s still alive, after almost stepping right on it. Its tentacles down and completely see through, and pulsing…it’s alive. After much deliberation and not wanting stung. I grab some sticks from the dunes and slowly try nudging it back into the surf at dusk…not the best idea. But, it’s alive, and its rude to walk away from something that needs help. Even if it’s the biggest damn jellyfish you’ve ever seen.

So I finally get this behemoth to the water’s edge and shove it in and then for the second time that day, run like hell for the shore.

I did it I was done, and it was dark.

Later that night as I’m cooking dinner in my Jetboil, the overcast sky clears, revealing a full moon and a blanket of stars overhead. I fall asleep to the sound of the ocean, watching the moonlight hit the waves as they crash into shore.