Salacia's Survival #PlanetorPlastic

Somebody! Help!

I didn't feel like going to the beach today, but I had an assignment due. It's supposed to storm later, and the water is super choppy. I couldn't take the boat out, so I wandered down the sand. I wanted to take my shoes off, but I had been cut before from a sharp edge of a broken plastic bottle. Growing up, we knew to look for glass, but the plastic was tricky. It looked harmless. I knew from the tetanus shot and six stitches, it isn't. 

Every other wave brought with it garbage that had found its way into the water. I had been raised on the beach, and every year, it seemed like more crap found its way into the blue depths. I had been out on fishing boats many times, pulling loads of plastic bags, bottles, and other debris out. We couldn't come close to taking it all. It was on one of those trips when I was sixteen, I decided to study marine biology. Salacia changed my life. 

We were just coming in out of the water on that Saturday afternoon when I saw her. I had always loved dolphins, and I had been on many excursions to swim with them. I knew this one was in trouble. She was about two feet in the water, laying on her side, gently swaying with the waves. The beach was largely deserted that day. I was thanking God for that as I jumped onto the dock and ran down the beach. 

"Call WDC!" I shouted over my shoulder as I rushed to the beached mammal. I stroked her head and tried to see if there was an obvious injury. I wondered if plastic had obstructed her stomach as it had others.  My father came running up, cell phone in hand. 

"Yes, its alive. Mhmm. Okay. I'm sending someone to wait for you by the street near the dunes." 

My dad's friend, Ted, ran to us. "What do you need?" 

"Can you help us roll her onto her belly?" My dad nodded to his friend, Jim. "Can you meet the professionals at the road?" 

Ted, my father and I gently uprighted her,  moving her so her blow hole was protected. I covered her in small splashes of water, wishing someone who knew more than me would show up. It killed me knowing that she could die in front of me. I named her Salacia after the goddess of the sea. She would have a name if she died. 

I don't know how long we stood there, holding her until the vet got there.  Time stood still as I looked in her sad eyes. 

"I'm sorry," I whispered. 

"Well take it from here." 

"Her name is Salacia." 

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Every year, thousands of sea creatures are lost to human recklessness. If laws don't change, if WE don't change, our oceans will be lost. The saying goes, with the pulse of the ocean goes the pulse of humanity. Our pulse is fading.