Dan's Papers - August 7, 2009 - Battling the Jellies

A few weeks ago, Long Beach in Sag Harbor looked like a snapshot from the ideal summer vacation - a "Wish you were here!" postcard from the seashore. Adults sunning, sleeping or reading under striped umbrellas. Boogie boards emblazoned with superheroes, sharks or princesses, dropped randomly by the shore. Sandcastles in every phase of construction or deconstruction. A few seining nets - a swath of fishnet jerry-rigged to bamboo poles with duct tape - lying listless in the sand.

That Sunday afternoon, groups of children were busy at the shore - some teetering from the weight of the huge red and blue plastic buckets they carried, others parading with orange and green shovels or yellow nets on wooden poles over their shoulders. A typical summer scene.

One group of kids stood in a circle in the water, lifting things out with their nets and shovels, transferring whatever it was to the buckets, accompanied by squeals of alarm and shouts of disgust.

Yucky seaweed? Dead crabs?

Neither. It was Lion's Mane, aka Red, jellyfish. Sag Harbor Bay was filled with them that day, and rather than risk a sting while swimming in the water, the kids made their own fun: scoop up the jellyfish gingerly and pour them into buckets with a plop.

Are their parents insane? I thought. Don't they know that even dead jellyfish can sting? Don't they know that the tentacles, hard to see underwater, are what get you?

Well we knew. And there would be no jellyfish scooping for us nor our son. We'd take our beach business elsewhere.

The jellyfish haven't been too plentiful this year, maybe due to the rain or cool weather, but generally, not bad - not yet. When we returned to Long Beach last Sunday, the air was balmy, the water warm - perfect conditions for a long, leisurely swim, and there wasn't a jellyfish in sight. So what even if there were a few jiggling around here or there? Most people I know feel a little sting for a few minutes, then it goes away. A friend told me that if you quickly rub some sand on a sting, it scrapes off the tentacles and you're good to go.

I set out for a long swim, feeling happy and free, thinking, "This is great! Maybe we don't need a pool at the new house after all."

Then it hit me: a feeling that my entire upper right side, from finger tip to under the arm pit around to the back, had been shot with Napalm. A jellyfish! I didn't see it and didn't dare linger to look. Get sand, get sand, I thought. Because I was far from shore, I reached down for a handful of sand right then and there, and came up with a small scoop of grains mixed with rocks and broken shells. The pain was getting worse, so I gave it a go. Felt like broken glass on a sunburn. I headed toward the shore, where I scooped and rubbed frantically. "Exfoliating... hmmm... great idea," some people surely thought.

But it didn't work, so we ran to the car and high tailed it to Cromer's for meat tenderizer (another tip from the friend - a sure fire way to get the tentacles off). I dusted and rubbed, dusted and rubbed as we drove home.

By the time we got there, thousands of little red bumps covered my arm, shoulder, armpit and back. I went for the big guns: Benadryl gel. Ahh. That felt better. A little better. For a little while. Then the burning started again.

I went online. A few sites recommended vinegar, followed by ammonia, then water. The vinegar hurt like hell. Thank god I didn't have ammonia. That night, I awoke with pain that only ice packs could numb.

I wore a long sleeved shirt to work on Monday, so as not to disgust my co-workers, plus it would hold the ice bags. At one point I had two ice packs up my sleeve, one in my armpit, another on my back, wedged under my strap. Someone gave me a Benadryl tablet. Made me feel melancholy about my predicament - and tired.

Monday night the burning turned to itching. I pulled out everything: calamine lotion (worked for a few minutes); aloe vera (stung like hell); triple antibiotic cream (sticky, causing more itching); I found some eardrops with cortisone - dripped that on. Actually helped for a while. There's a scene in The Heartbreak Kid where Ben Stiller gets a jellyfish sting and Malin Akerman resorts to another home remedy -urine. I opted for more ice packs, and lying on my arms so I wouldn't scratch.

The next day I went to my doctor's office and was seen by Gerald Simons, physician's assistant. He was sure I had encountered a big one. A nurse took a photo of the rash. I turned away, just in case it should end up on the internet.

We started treatment with a cortisone shot. Ahhhhh. Relief at last! Then Simon's litany of remedies, which I share with you now:

As soon as it happens:

Zyrtec pills. That has just the right antihistamine to counteract jellyfish stings. Take immediately. "Some people tape them to the inside of their boats," said Simons.

Organic meat tenderizer. Yes, it can work if it's protein based. It makes the skin too moist for the tentacles to adhere. Rub it on immediately.

Prescription itch cream, twice a day. When I went into Bridgehampton Pharmacy to pick it up it, pharmacist Frank Calvo looked sympathetically at me as I scratched my back with my car keys.

Pure aloe vera gel. Try that in the morning; itch cream at night - or vice versa. I don't remember.

Nizoral Dandruff shampoo. For any itchy rash, really. Smear it on, let it dry for 10 minutes, wash it off. Smells good too!

Preventatives for sensitive types:

L-Lysine. Take two 500 mg tabs a day to build resistance against jellyfish cooties.

Deadly nightshades. Avoid tomatoes, eggplant, peppers. They exacerbate inflammation.

Other people said to wear a dive suit for swimming. Our garden writer, April Gonzales, suggested a rash guard, and someone told her panty hose protect your legs. But April's husband refused to go to the beach with her in that getup.

I talked to East Hampton Natural Resource Director Larry Penny. He said that, on the bay side, Southwesterly winds blow jellies OFF-shore - a better time to go in the water. After a lot of rain, you may not see as many since they don't like fresh water.

Penny said that jellyfish farther out can be two feet wide with 5-6 foot long tentacles. And here's an interesting yet disturbing tidbit: When boats run over jellyfish, they shear off the tentacles. These detached poison whips survive for a while, float by unnoticed (they're basically clear) and sting the hell out of you.

Other than boaters with a vengeance, jellyfish have another predator: Ridley sea turtles that live in our bays. Unfortunately their numbers are small, due in part to all those happy party balloons. The turtles mistake them for jellyfish and eat them - it's usually fatal. (Next time you go to buy balloons, please think twice. Flowers are nice, too). At a recent conference at Southampton College, the experts concurred that there's an increase in jellyfish here because of the decrease in turtles. Plus there's more jellyfish food - plankton - due to more nutrients in the waters from run-off containing lawn fertilizers and other pollutants.

In any case, by Wednesday, I was on the mend. But when my partner suggested we meet at Long Beach, I cringed. "Niagra Falls... slowly I turn..." But I went. I saw a jellyfish. I didn't go in the water. Walking along the shore, I saw the mother of them all - an undulating red mass the size of a dinner plate. I reached down, not for sand but for a rock, which I threw at the blubbery mess. That was fun. I hurled another, and another.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard my partner whisper, "I think we should go now..."