In Malta,
the small island I come from, summers are usually hot and dry and the month of
June 2007 was no exception. My friend phoned me up suggesting we head
down to the beach for a swim to relax and cool down a bit. I wasn’t
really in the mood for that but on second thought I decided to follow.
Little did I know what was in store for me!!!
On arrival
at the sandy beach, my friend literally jumped into the water, but I decided to
sunbathe a little bit before getting into the sea. She started calling me
to join her, but I realized that the wind was slightly increasing its speed and
this was creating waves, so I was very cautious. I just sat down in the shallow
water instead of heading out to the deeper water.
Suddenly, a
wave that was about half a meter in height rocked me back and forth on the
spot. I never trust the sea, so alarmed, I decided to go back
onshore. That was the worst idea I could have thought of, because on
standing up, a higher wave hurdled in and pulled me out at sea.
Now the
waves were very high, about 2 meters and my survival instinct took over and I
started struggling to swim ashore. Instead of swimming, towards the
shore, the high waves dragged me out and from the point I was at I couldn’t see
land nor anyone around. I think I must have been dragged about a mile out
at sea, and this was just the beginning.
The waves
were now of enormous height and the wind increasing rapidly and panic
overtook me. I am a good swimmer as I used to train aquatic sports
and I also have Life Saving At Sea Courses and a member of the St. John
Ambulance Brigade so, I was supposed to be trained. But at that moment in time,
anything I knew felt useless.
I started
crying, shouting and panicking…I felt I was going to die and it seemed to me a
terrible death. At that very moment, something took over and I sort of
‘regained my senses.’ I was full of courage and decided that I couldn’t give up
on my life now. So I started counting the waves and calculating their
speed. The sea must have been force 8 or 9. At first I didn’t
manage and the sea was pulling me out again, so I started to dive into the
waves and using my strength towards the current by diving.
Somehow, my
strategy was working and after a grueling 45 minutes out at sea, I made it to
the shore. On swimming in, I could hear people shouting and an ambulance was
being called. To this day, I can’t figure out how I managed to arrive
back on land. My strength was gone, my mind blanked out, so for sure it
must have been the hand of God. At least, that’s what the witnesses told
me.
That day, in
the same rough sea and at the same beach, a life was lost. So I must have
been either lucky or had an extra helping hand from up above. You decide,
I think I already know.
This miracle
story was submitted by “C.S.” from Malta.
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