The ocean's waters are iridescent. They call; I plunge in. Immediately I am enveloped in memory, in mystery, in wonder and in fear of what I might meet. This tantalizing feeling has stayed with me since early childhood.

The water's edge is the launching place where I step gingerly or rush headlong into the unknown and make it familiar. I dive through the bubbling surf, get lifted up as though by magic on the forming waves, then watch and wait. Get ready. Quick, it is coming. I swim furiously, catch the wave just before it breaks and slide down on the power of the water. Sometimes I am taken right into shore; at other times I am dumped unceremoniously, get churned up, down and around before reaching the surface and the next breath of air. Ten I swim back and do it all over again.

But while I am spinning on the tides, losing myself in an ocean of delight and blue liminality, my attention is diverted from the escalating damage to sea and coast. And its cause? The actions of humans. In part there is a lack of knowledge about the delicate intricacies of the marine ecosystem and a lack of awareness about the vitality of the ocean we take for granted, which keeps us, and the earth, alive.