Even Rocky Point had to Change

Rocky Point had become a major part of my life, a place where I could relax, have fun, sit in the sun, and make memories with my family. But Rocky Point was changing.

The last big family trip we took, while fun, ran into some problems. Moe brought his sail boat, but we weren't able to use it much. The first day was perfect. He launched right off the landing at La Playa Elegante, the RV park we always stayed at. The ocean was as smooth as glass that day, and everyone had a good time. The second day, though, was a different story. The wind started blowing early in the morning and it grew stronger as the day went on, causing rough seas and big waves. We tried to launch the boat from the landing, but the waves kept turning and pushing it, making it almost impossible to hold onto. It wasn't long before it pushed us down the beach, the boat almost parallel to the shore, waves breaking over the sides and filling it with water. That made it so heavy we couldn't work with it, but as soon as we got the water out the waves started pushing us around again.

One huge wave caught the boat and knocked dad over, pushing him under the waves. That was a scary moment, and by the time we got dad out, half drowned, we knew it was time to give up. Just the same, we still had to get the boat up on shore. The next big wave picked the boat up and rammed it into my leg, hitting me hard on the shin. I thought I'd broken my leg for a moment, but in the end I was alright except for a big bump. It must have broken all the blood vessels around that spot, though, because it still looks awful, like a hundred varicose veins all bunched together.

In the end, Moe gathered up about ten little Mexican boys playing down on the beach to help us. He tied a long rope on the end of the boat, and with their help we dragged it up onto the shore.

It was a few years before we had another chance to go to Rocky Point. Russell wanted to go, but his wife backed out at the last minute, thinking it would be easier to stay home with their six month old daughter and let Russell take their three-year-old. He invited our whole family, but no one else could go. Moe had a convention for work back east that week, but he finally agreed to let me take Stephen and the little girls, as long as Russell drove.

Since there were so few of us we only took one tent and an awning. It didn't take us long to set up camp, and then we headed down to the beach, excited to get into the cool water. It was already the first of June, and hot! The girls ran right out into the ocean, but it wasn't five minutes before Krissi came running back up the beach, crying. She had been stung by a jelly fish! I took her back to the tent and rubbed cortisone cream into the sting and gave her some Tylenol.

“There are jellyfish all over the beach,” Russell told me when he brought the other kids up a few minutes later. “Maybe we'll have to wait to swim until later.”

When Krissi started feeling better we walked back down to the beach and let the girls play in the sand while Russell and Stephen tried fishing. It was amazing, standing there on the beach, to look to my right and see what was happening on the other side of the point. A few years earlier there had only been a long, sandy beach. Now, high rise condominiums sprung up all along the shore. What was happening to Rocky Point?

Thank goodness La Playa Elegante was still the same. Hot, wet, salty and wonderful, it seemed that progress hadn't reached that end of town yet.

That evening when it cooled down I tried to let the kids swim again, but we began seeing jellyfish even before they got their feet wet. The next morning, while the tide was out, they were able to play in the tide pools and search for shells and crabs. The water in the pools was clear and cold, with no jellyfish. But the jellyfish came back with the tide.

“I've never seen jellyfish here before,” I told another woman I met. “I can't understand it.”

“They come as soon as the water gets hot,” she told me knowingly. “That's why they close the park down for the summer.”

“When does it close?” I asked.

“Next week.”

Well, that explained it, but it didn't make it better. The boys still had fun, fishing, but the girls got cranky and bored. It was hot, and they wanted to swim. In desperation, I finally let them get their hair braided by a little Mexican woman down on the beach. We saw her every time we came to Rocky Point, and the girls had often begged me to let them get their hair done. That kept them entertained for a couple of hours, and they sure looked cute with hundreds of tiny beads braided into their hair when she finished. It also took up most of the afternoon, so by the time they were done it had cooled off. We walked up and down the shore, looking for jelly fish. It seemed cooler than before, and we didn't find any of the nasty little creatures, so finally I let the girls go back out into the surf. I shouldn't have. A few minute later little Samantha began to cry, and when I picked her up I could see red marks on her leg, so I called the other girls in, and we carried Sammi up to the tent to try to make her feel better.

The next day we had to go home. But even with the heat, the jelly fish, and the encroaching commercialism, it was still hard to leave and go home. I loved Rocky Point, and I sure wished time could stand still and it would always stay the same.