"I watched a stranger die today."

This morning I was up bright and breezy at 5am and crossed the road to the beach.

Peaceful, calm and tranquil, it was the perfect start to the day. I took long deep breaths, taking in fresh air and fresh hope. Little did I know that several hours later I’d be at the same spot watching a stranger die.

Unlike my boyfriend, I’m a weak swimmer; the crashing waves of the powerful ocean terrify me so usually when we go to the beach I lay and soak up a little sun while he heads into the world of the waves.

Today was no different still, at this point.

"Usually when we go to the beach I lay and soak up a little sun while he heads into the world of the waves." (Image supplied)

The sun was hot and I was wriggling around on my towel getting my positioning right when he came bolting back up the sand, “They’ve just dragged a man out of the water and started working on him.” With that, he was pacing back down the sand.

I’ve never seen lifeguards at work before. Springing into action, they’d started CPR. At any moment I was expecting them to stop, the man to sit up and the couple of dozen onlookers applaud their good work. But they didn’t stop, I watched the lifeguards hands move up and down, up and down.

There were still people swimming in the ocean when one lifeguard ran to take one flag down then the other, now they were taking turns to work on the man on the sand.

"There were still people swimming in the ocean when one lifeguard ran to take one flag down then the other, now they were taking turns to work on the man on the sand." (Image via iStock)

Time ticked by and as it did I felt increasingly nauseous; the world goes quiet when you’re focused intently, willing something to happen.

Parents stood, grounded in shock, as helpless as the small children who stood by their sides. I found myself wishing the parents would all lead their children away, shielding their young eyes from something they wouldn’t be allowed to watch on TV, but in those moments they were all human before they were parents.

As time passed, some snapped out of their trance, wrapped their children in towels and lead them away. Their lives had come off pause and would now continue as normal; apart from seeing the man on the sand.

I started to feel the left side of my face burning from the sun, knew a fair amount of time must have passed, and realised I couldn’t see my boyfriend.

I had his glasses, which he takes off to swim, and he can’t see brilliantly without them. The flags were his markers and suddenly my mind raced for him. I had no idea at that moment what had caused the man’s trouble or how dangerous the ocean was feeling today.

"It's not looking good." (Image via iStock)

I picked up our bags, leaving the towels so he’d clearly see our spot if he returned and paced down the beach. There he stood, frozen in the sand behind the lifeguard’s vehicle just a couple of metres from where the paramedics were now working on the man.

“It’s not looking good,” he said to me quietly as I passed him his glasses and put my arm round him tightly.

I looked over and stared at the man’s grey face. The paramedic gently pulled the man’s arms to his sides. He was gone. A woman was led to his side where she knelt, sobbing, rocking, talking to him with her hand on his chest.

My hand over my mouth, I couldn’t look away. This poor man had just lost his life and a woman had a man she loved taken from her. She arrived at the beach for a day of fun, laughter and sunshine and the day clouded with death.

They would have planned their journey home, their dinner, their future; now it was all gone. Her life would never be the same again. In the same spot I had taken slow deep breaths early this morning, he had taken his last.

She arrived at the beach for a day of fun, laughter and sunshine and the day clouded with death. (Image via iStock)

My boyfriend and I walked back to our towels and I sat, shaken and unable to speak.

The police arrived and, overhearing some of their conversation, he’d died of a suspected heart-attack. News reports say he was 58-years-old and swimming with his 12-year-old son.

I overheard one man, maybe a friend saying, “He was on a body board earlier having a whale of a time.” I hope the lady manages to remember the image of him laughing in the waves in the memory bank he’s left for her.

It’s so surreal watching stranger’s lives change forever; you’ve witnessed something so personal that will remain playing in loop in your mind and they don’t know even who you are.

She will never know that I wanted to walk over to her, but it wasn’t my place to comfort her.

She will never know that I shook in the shower when I got home and tears ran as I imagined the hell she’ll be going through tonight.

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