However, there is always one exception to the rule.
This particular beach, was exactly that.
Of course, it was another Moose Brooks situation, in the sense that I had forcefully insisted that we go there to begin with.
The water was rough, kids. And I grew up in Melbourne - on the beaches of Phillip Island and Port Fairy where people are pulled out by rips, smashed in the waves, and thrown onto the rocks on like a daily basis.
I was LITERALLY not even up to my knees in the water, and the current was so strong it was wiped my legs out from under me. Then I'd get knocked down, the tide would pull me back out to sea with such a force I actually was afraid for my life. And I was in 4 feet deep. It was honestly the most frightening beach experience I've ever had. And being me, I've had more than many beach experiences that could be considered frightening.
Annie was sunbathing and Bridge was hanging out in a banana leaf shelter. I was going through hell.
I was literally thrown about like a rag doll and fighting for my life. I'm not even being dramatic when I say that I couldn't pull myself back onto the safety of the sand for quite some time.
I was not the bodacious beach babe I had hoped to be. I was not splashing playfully about in the shadows. I looked like an utter maniac and was fighting for survival.
No wonder there was no one else in the water. The waves were coming in at 6 feet over my head.
I was calling out for help for the girls on the sand. They obviously misjudged the seriousness of the situation.
Due the speed and ferocity at which I was flung about, so unexpectedly, Annie described it as paranormal activity.
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