The Hidden Danger of Inlet Rip Tides
From Someone Who Has Lived in Florida for The Past 30 Years and Had No Clue
I’ve lived in Florida since 1994, but I learned a terrifying new lesson about the power of inlet rip tides the other day.
Before I tell you what happened, let’s get one thing straight. Rip tides and rip currents are two different things.
Rip Tides vs. Rip Currents
Rip currents occur in the ocean. Rip currents are fast-moving water channels that can drag you out to sea. They are too powerful to swim against. On popular public beaches, you can usually find warning flags posted if the rip currents are particularly strong that day.
If you are ever caught in a rip current, the expert advice is to either allow the rip current to take you out and then swim back diagonally toward the shore, or if you’ve got the energy, swim parallel to shore and approach diagonally. Like in the Harry Potter films, the key here is diagonally.
Rip tides are rip currents’ lesser-known and equally dangerous cousin. While rip currents occur in the ocean, rip tides occur in inlets, lagoons, or inland marinas that feed into the ocean. Rip tides happen when tidal currents move powerfully through these smaller spaces during ebb tide.
In other words, when the gravitational pull is sucking water from the inlet or lagoon back into the glorious and formidable ocean, you’ve got rip tides.
While there are flags and warnings about rip currents at the beach, there is much less information available about rip tides, even online.
Regarding what to do if caught in a rip tide, the main piece of advice I have found in my research is don’t swim in inlets, followed closely by don’t freak out, and don’t drown.
I also read you should wave your arms to get attention from nearby boaters and, if all else fails, try to grab onto the piers of a bridge as you float beneath it.
Yep. Yikes.
Ignorance is Bliss Until it’s Not
My husband and I became members of a local boating club a few years ago, and it’s been great, up until the other day, when I came face to face with my mortality for the 20 longest seconds of my life.
Our favorite boat to take out has an upper deck with a water slide. We’ve gone out a number of times and enjoyed using the water slide, swimming around the boat, and generally having a great time.
The good fortune we’d had on all our previous boating adventures is probably why we were extra naive to the dangers of the Intracoastal inlet at ebb tide.
I’ve been taught about the dangers of rip currents in the ocean. I’ve even been caught in one before. But rip tide? I thought those were the same thing. I had no idea it was dangerous to swim in the inlet. Apparently, neither did my husband.
Do Not Try This at Home (or Anywhere)
Recently, we took the family out on the boat past Fort Matanzas and into the Matanzas inlet. There is a “beach” here where parents bring their kids to play in the little pools of warm tidal water by the shore.
There are usually a number of boats and people enjoying water activities. People rent inner tubes to float in and large inflatables to bounce on.
You can even see a peek of the ocean under a nearby bridge, which I’ve always thought was neat.
Until the other day, I thought of the Matanzas inlet as a fun, family-friendly, relatively safe place.
After all, there are no waves!
Why not dock the boat and go for a swim?
Once anchored in the Matanzas Inlet, our kiddos asked to go swimming. I volunteered to test the water.
My youngest counted me off: 3….2….1!
Thinking I was testing the water for depth and temperature, I, sans life jacket, jumped in.
Brr…the water was so cold but refreshing. Fun!
When I popped my head up from the water, I was about five feet behind the boat.
My family was gathered on the stern, watching me. They were getting farther away. “Well, that’s odd,” I thought.
My husband said, “You’ve drifted quite a bit…fast. You might want to start swimming back.”
Okay, no problem. Time to go back.
I then started an efforted swim against what I now realized was a powerful current, pushing me and everything else toward the ocean, which suddenly felt closer than ever.
I was swimming as hard as I could toward the boat and still not moving in the right direction.
No longer fun.
That’s when the adrenaline and sheer terror set in.
I kept my eyes glued on my husband, repeating his name with some urgency. I wondered why he didn’t jump in.
Then I realized he probably wasn’t jumping in because he feared this current may be too strong for him, too. That freaked me out.
“Help me. Help me.”
I know I said that phrase a couple of times. I was scared, treading water hard with my arms and legs, trying desperately not to have a panic attack.
This is Why I Married an Alpha
With the placid demeanor of a monk, as chill as a refrigerated cucumber, my husband lifted the long rope attached to the stern of the boat and tossed it to me with intention.
“Grab the rope,” he said.
I reached into the water and grabbed hold of that blessed rope! Praise God.
At the end of my rope, in more ways than one, I grasped that wonderful collection of threads tightly in my hand with a sense of relief I can scarcely describe.
Gripping tightly, I quickly pulled myself back to the boat and climbed shakily on deck.
Whew. Crisis averted.
Some Things Went Right
This experience showed us that we were sorely unaware and ill-prepared for the dangers of Intracoastal swimming. Embarrassingly so.
The day could have gone differently if the factors had been slightly altered.
Trust me; I’ve run through them all.
What if the water slide had been working, the current had been even more virulent, or the rope had not been long enough? What if the kids had jumped in?!?
Thankfully, none of those things happened, though.
My hubby stayed solid, making the best possible decision in a tense moment. I remained calm(ish) and concentrated enough, despite my fear, that I could focus and grab that rope. Saving graces.
So many variables came together to make this experience a valuable lesson and not a tragedy.
Yes, something went wrong, but I must humbly and gratefully acknowledge how much went right.
Lessons Learned
I learned valuable lessons that day. There are a number of things we will do differently in future boating excursions.
Life jackets must be worn at all times. Yes, even by the adults. I will wear one from now on.
No one swims in open water, anywhere near an inlet, or maybe even at all. If we are close to a shore where we can touch the ground, with many other people around, and “in between tides” (if there is such a thing!), maybe then, but I’ve got more research to do.
If considering testing the water, do so while holding the rope firmly! If the current pulls you, it’s not safe to swim!
Know what's happening with the tides before going out on the boat! Is the tide coming in? Going out? How hard is the current pushing the boat?
My encounter with rip tides scared the crap out of me, but it enlightened me, too.
I’ve got an entirely new respect for our intercoastal waterway and boating safety, in general.
Inlets are gorgeous, but they are not for swimming.
Once again, Mother Nature takes the cake for being both incredibly beautiful and absolutely terrifying.
Don’t swim in an inlet, people. Just don't.
