How to Survive a Minus Tide

August 13th, 2011

I am on the Oregon coast right now, having a little break from my overwhelming, post-fire life.  This week was the full moon, which meant that we had some low, low tides out here. And a really cool occurrence –  a “minus” tide.

Most of us know something about the tides; they go up, they go down. They are caused by the gravitational pull of the moon, which tugs on the oceans of the Earth and makes the water stretch out into space, egg-shaped.  The places where the water is pulled out towards the moon is where the tide is high. The other sides of the “egg,” where the water is thin, is where the tide is low. Here’s a picture I got from Wikipedia:

See how the moon pulls the water out towards it? Cool, right?

Tides are also affected by the wind, the pull of the sun, and other stuff, but it’s mostly the good old moon.

So this means the concept of “sea level” is a bit tricky. If the level of the sea is different every hour, all around the world, how to we figure out “sea level?” Well, scientists have – don’t ask me how – and the average level of the sea is what they call the “zero tide height.”  Most low tides are actually above zero (again, don’t ask me to explain this) but every once in a while, the moon pulls the water way, way out, and we get a minus tide, which means the tide is “below zero.” And this is really, really cool. This is when you wake up in the morning and look at the beach and it’s bigger than you’ve ever seen it before. Little rocks have become huge islands; tiny sand spits are long jetties, reaching out into the bay. You can walk for miles on places that were completely underwater just a few hours ago. Like I said, really cool.

It means that tide pools emerge, and curious humans can get up early and go down to the beach and poke around in them.  It means that animals like starfish and mussels and anemones and barnacles, who live in the intertidal zone near the beach, must, in a sense, hold their breath until the water returns.

They’re adapted to this, of course, and genetically programmed to survive the low tides. Every six hours or so they go through that uncomfortable time of day, when the cozy, life-giving water recedes, and they are at the mercy of the sun, the seagulls, and the curious humans. So they’re used to hard times. But then every once in a while, there is a minus tide, and all hell breaks loose.  All of a sudden, they are way WAY up on the beach, stranded in a tide pool. “Hold on here,” thinks the starfish during its first-ever minus tide, as a little kid grabs him and starts waving him around, “I don’t think I’m quite prepared for THIS.”

Even though I’m on vacation, and trying not to think about the fire, as I walked the beach this morning I kept thinking that we all go through a Minus Tide at some point in our lives. We think we’re ready for disaster –  we’re good at holding our breath, at clinging to the rocks until the bad stuff passes and the tide comes back up – but then we hit something big, like fire, or death, or serious illness. Whoa, Minus Tide. I don’t think I’m quite prepared for THIS.

As I looked at the stranded creatures on the beach this morning, I mentally willed them to hold on, hold on. The tide will come up again, I thought, don’t you worry. Just hang on. Hang on.

So here’s a little photo essay, called How to Survive a Minus Tide, sent to you, from me, from the cold and windy Oregon coast, where the tides ebb and flow, and rise and fall, and always teach me something new.

How to Survive a Minus Tide

First, don’t try to tough it out.  There’s no sense in trying to go it alone.

Instead, hang on to your friends for support.

Realize that people might actually be nicer than you think.

And most of all, have faith.  Everything ebbs and flows…

…and if you just hang on…

the waters will return….

the tide will rise again…

…and a new and beautiful shoreline will appear.

Whew, you made it! Kick up your heels, celebrate your success, and take a little break. Because you just never know what the tide is going to do next!

Sending You Love, Blessings, and Cool Ocean Breezes,

Andi