Proof The Bible Is True

Saturday, October 30, 2004. The half-mile crescent of Whangarei’s Ocean Beach glowed white in the early morning light. January and February—the high months of summer in New Zealand—were still far away, and the water was cold on my feet from the winter just past.

 

With me were my fellow lifeguards Karina and Matt, my daughter Nicky—also a lifeguard—and her friend Helen, a novice. This was to be Helen’s first official summer lifeguarding at Ocean Beach.

That morning, we were going to show her one of the beach’s most challenging features: the jagged lines of rocks that jut far out to sea at the north and south ends of the beach.

Each summer, we rescued swimmers who got picked up by the beach’s powerful rip currents and swept into those razor-sharp rocks. You can’t be a good lifeguard at Ocean Beach without being comfortable among them.

The five of us swam out and soon found a spot where the rip was running. A strong rip current at Whangarei is like a conveyor belt. In seconds, it can carry a hapless swimmer—or a lifeguard intent on rescuing him—hundreds of yards out into the sea.

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