outhwest Florida, I was startled to hear splashes and
a deep sigh coming from the water just offshore.
As I squinted in the direction of the sounds, the
rounded gray back of a sea creature rose amid a red
froth, rolled turbulently at the surface, then sank
back into the Gulf. Moments later a broad nose
emerged and exhaled in a great snuffling breath. It
was a manatee, and by the looks of the reddish-
colored water and the way it was thrashing, it was in
trouble.
I had often watched manatees in these warm coastal
waters, but I'd never seen one act like this before.
Usually just their big nostrils appeared for a gulp
of air as they foraged on sea grasses or swam slowly
to greener underwater pastures. But I also knew how
common it was for these lumbering giants to be gashed
by boat propellers or entangled in crab traps.
I wanted to help, but what could I do? There was no
one else on the beach, and the nearest phone to call
the Marine Patrol was miles away.
Tossing my beach bag onto the sand, I began wading
toward the animal, who continued to writhe as if in
distress. I was still only waist deep when I came
close enough to make out the bristly whiskers on the
manatee's muzzle as it thrust up out of the sea.
Then, to my surprise, a second muzzle, much smaller,
I pushed on through the shoal water, but now the
manatees were also moving toward me. Before I knew
what was happening, I was in chest-deep water
encircled by not one or two, but at least three
blimplike bodies. I felt elated and slightly dizzy
like the kid who is 'it' in a schoolyard game.
A bulbous snout emerged next to me. In the
translucent water, I could clearly see the rest of
the huge mammal, and there, nestled close behind her,
a smaller version of her massive body.
Then, with incredible gentleness for such an enormous
creature, the larger manatee nudged the little one
with her paddle-shaped flipper and pushed it to the
surface beside me. I wanted to reach out and touch
the pudgy sea baby, but I hesitated, not knowing the
rules of this inter-species encounter.
As the two slipped back underwater, two other
manatees moved in from behind and slid by, one on
either side, rubbing gently against my body as they
swam past. They circled and repeated the action, this
time followed by the mother and her calf. Emboldened
by their overtures, I let my hand graze the side of
the small manatee, now clinging to the mother's back,
as they made their pass. Its skin felt rubbery and
firm like an old fashioned hot water bottle.
The group completed several more circuits. Since they
obviously enjoyed touching me, I began stroking each
of them as they sidled by. When one of them rolled
over for a scratch, I knew I had made the right move.
Eventually my new friends made their way off towards
deeper water. I stood anchored to the spot, not
wishing to break the spell, until finally the rising
tide forced me back to shore.
I suppose I will never know exactly what took place
that morning. I like to think that the manatees
included me in their celebration of a birth; that I
was welcomed to meet the
The Beautynewest member of their
tribe. But over time I have come to cherish the
experience without questions.
During that unexpected rendezvous, I felt more in
tune with the rhythms of life on this vast planet
than I ever have. The memory
Cloud Monitoring Service has become a song I sing
to myself when I have the blues, a dance I do to
celebrate joy.
And each year, during the last week of May, I pack a
lunch and head for that isolated stretch
ECG of beach for
a quiet little birthday picnic on the shore. After
all, you never know who might show up for the party.