That was quite the storm. Monica says that she steps out onto the back patio,

setting a cup of coffee down on the table for me. I nod, enjoying the early morning sun on my face.

The second floor patio of our Airbnb looks out onto Skine's Creek Beach. The waters of the

Bass Strait smooth the Australian sand and rocks in emotion as old as time. The sound of the waves

is relaxing in a way that's probably steeped in human evolution. Below us, in the fenced-in backyard,

Monica's little pomeranians sniff surround, barking and growling occasionally. It's our first

trip together, and I would have preferred that Monica's dog not be here, but I'm not about to let

it ruin my vacation. It's not that I don't like dogs. I love them, but it's a two-way street,

and Monica has bitten me more than once. She thinks she's protecting Monica when she does it, I guess,

but all she's doing is pissing me off. She won't even let me pet her. If I get close to her,

she grows. So I don't really pay it much mind as the dog grows and barks at something down along

the bushy fence line. I thank Monica for the coffee, and we both sit there, drinking our wake-up juice

while scanning the beach and the endless horizon beyond. The beach is messy with clumps and

strands of what I can only guess is kelp, must have washed up during last night's storm.

We got to the Airbnb and beach just before the storm rolled in last night, and I'm happy to see

that blue skies are back, and I want to spend much of that time relaxing on the beach or swimming

in the ocean. What do you say about a walk? I ask Monica. I saw a little food truck park down the

road on the way in last night. We can check that out, get some breakfast, and then walk back along

the beach. Monica smiles. Sounds great! We finish our coffee and gear up, getting mica in our harness.

Then we head down the road toward the little gathering of food trucks, sure that at least one of them

will be open to surf breakfast. There's a little playground set off the road that skirts the coast,

and as we approach it, we can hear a woman screaming someone's name. When we get closer,

...