Typical Day

Typical Day

Leif Saver gets up at 6am. He dresses in his lifeguard uniform, standard issue red swim trunks, Red Cross t-shirt, and his red lifesaver jacket. It's pretty much his only outfit for the entire summer. He splashes cold water on his face and downs a protein shake. Leif rushes out the door, but quickly returns to grab some water, a bottle of sunscreen, and his whistle.

His blonde hair glistens in the sun as he zips up the PCH in his Jeep, stereo blasting. It's another perfect day in Southern California—at least for the time being.

In the distance, Leif spots a series of cumulonimbus clouds that could either mean a squall or a thunderstorm ahead. According to the surf report, there's a storm coming in this afternoon and some heavy waves are expected to follow. It looks like it's going to be a busy day.

When Leif gets to Zuma beach, his fellow lifeguards (and friends) are already there, watching the water. It's early and there are a few surfers, the same early morning pack they usually see. These experienced swimmers know how to read the surf, so Leif and the other lifeguards don't worry too much about them. However, that doesn't mean the surfers aren't being watched. They are. Everyone on the beach is being watched.

Leif says a quick hello to his friends, puts down his stuff, and slathers zinc oxide on his face and SPF 50 on the rest of his tanned, toned body. He then darts down the beach and jumps in for a quick swim. This is the way he has started his day, every day, for the past 15 years, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

When he's done with his swim, Leif jogs back to the guard tower, grabs his small buoy, and takes over his section of the beach. Leif's eyes scan the ocean, never looking away. He knows it only takes one moment to potentially miss something and lose someone forever.

The beach becomes crowded as the morning wears on—kids, toddlers and their families, teens, tweens, grandparents, young hipsters, tourists, and regulars. Every kind of swimmer imaginable is in his water and he's responsible for all of them. Apparently nobody told them that it was going to rain this afternoon—or maybe they don't care. Whatever the case, this part of Zuma is always crowded during the summer.

Leif blows his whistle, telling some goofy teens to get out of the water before someone gets hurt. He hasn't had to go in the water yet, but it's still early.

Around 1pm, his fellow lifeguard, Suzi Seashells, points out a change in the ocean wave patterns. A strong rip current becomes visible, as a channel of calm sea is surrounded by white water on either side. Leif and Suzi both know this spells trouble.

A rip current is easy to spot if you know what to look for; unfortunately, most people don't even know what one is until it's too late and they're dragged under. A good percentage of any lifeguard's saves come from those who underestimate a rip current, including the one Leif has to make right now.

A group of four teens who were having fun ducking the waves are now only three. A member of their group, a young boy, has got caught up in the rip and is panicking. Leif doesn't hesitate. He blows two whistles, letting the other guards know he's going in.

He's in the water in a flash, swimming out to make the save. As a former collegiate water polo player, Leif is a strong swimmer. But even an Olympian can't outswim a rip, so Leif will have to outsmart it.

Leif swims alongside the rip in the turbulent, but harmless, white water. Ironic, how it's the seemingly smooth, glassy channel that carries the dangerous rip current. When Leif is parallel to the drowning boy, he dives into the rip alongside him. He grabs the boy, has him hold onto his life buoy, and instructs him to relax. They ride the rip out together and let the power of the current swirl them around and spit them out close to shore. Once they get close enough, Leif drags the boy out of the current back into the white water and swims him in.

The boy is shaking, but he's unharmed. His friends come and find him, looking at Leif with awe. "It's fine," Leif tells them. "Just be sure to stay out of the rip. You should only be swimming between the flags."

"Don't worry," the boy replies. "We're not going back in at all. We're going home."

"Suit yourself," Leif says as he turns and jogs back toward the tower.

At the tower, his buddies acknowledge the save. It's the first of the day, so the other guards have to buy him a beer at the end of the day. But there's no time to rest. While it may be the first save of the day, it likely won't be the last.

Around 3:30pm, the clouds thicken; the wind and surf pick up. It's getting ugly out, with swells reaching 10 to 15 feet high. Most of the crowd has gone home, but there are still a few stragglers who insist on getting every last ounce of beach time in before they have to go home. Leif can hardly blame them.

One of the surfers, a regular that the guards usually don't worry about, wipes out on a particularly nasty looking wave. Leif spots him going under. He immediately gets up and dives into the freezing cold water, battling waves that are much more turbulent than they were earlier in the day.

Leif fights through the waves, trying to keep the surfer's bobbing head in view. In a second though, he disappears under the water. Leif swims faster, finally diving under to get him.

It takes a few terrifying moments, but Leif finally emerges with the surfer. He drags him up to the beach and immediately beings CPR. Nothing. Leif is terrified. Even though he knows CPR there's no guarantee whether or not it'll work. While Leif continues working on the surfer, one of the other lifeguards calls 911. As soon as the guard hangs up the phone, the surfer gasps, much to the relief of Leif and everyone around him.

When the EMTs arrive, they put the surfer on a stretcher and take him to the hospital. But all in all, it's another save for Leif.

Around 5pm, Leif goes for a brief jog with one of his fellow lifeguards. It's started to rain and the surf has really picked up. Leif blows his whistle, warning a few daredevils that there's danger ahead. In another minute there's thunder and that means everybody out of the water and off the beach. Leif and the other guards get busy blowing their whistles and hustling everyone out before the lightening hits.

As Leif and his coworkers are packing it in and closing out the guard tower, the first bolts of lightning hit, followed by several thunderous booms. With the beach clear, he grabs his stuff and heads to his car.

People stare at Leif as he drives down PCH. It's pouring, but he's still got the top down in his Jeep. The other drivers give the off-duty lifesaver odd looks, not understanding that the pelting rain doesn't bother him at all—in fact, it makes him feel at home.