Behind the Scenes of “Jaws Yawned”

by Samantha de Leve

How does a journalist in a wheelchair get down to the waterline at Venice Beach? Muscleman to the rescue!
Muscleman in a speedo and girl in wheelchair. He is biting her braid.
The Dilemma
Because I love to dive and love the ocean, the aspect of Jaws Yawned that most excited me was the opportunity to shoot footage underwater with a small GoPro camera. If mainstream media focus on “balance” and telling both sides of a story, this was my chance to get, if not a comment, at least the visual of the shark’s point-of-view.

As a wheelchair user, though, getting from boardwalk to sand is as impossible as climbing stairs to the top of the Empire State Building. My wheels sink in like quicksand. I found myself on the boardwalk, wandering up and down in search of a solution. I got a lot of offers for medical marijuana, but no way down to the beach.

The Solution
As one does on the boardwalk, I ended up resting near a man wearing only a speedo and a fanny pack. Despite the costume, no man would dare mock him: this man was a veritable Hulk, even by the standards of Muscle Beach. His shoulders were twice as broad across as mine, and his arms were the size of my thighs. I rolled up to him as a woman walked away with a satisfying photo op. We got to talking, and I mentioned my problem. He offered to physically carry me down to the beach. A chance to ride on the shoulders of a Venice muscle man? I accepted the offer.

A Big Softie
We left my wheelchair with a bike rental shop and he hefted me up onto his shoulder and started carrying me to the sand. His name was Amir, he said, chatting easily, unwinded by the exertion. I weighed less than his duffle bag, he said (later I saw the duffle. It’s probably true). He set me down gently in the sand and, after donning my gear, I set forth to do my very best Jaws impression. The results are part of the final video here.

Not only did Amir carry me to the sand, but he waited for me there as I swam, guarding my gear bag protectively and watching the surf for my return.

A New Perspective
Filming successful, I spent part of the afternoon with Amir. We rolled up and down the boardwalk, giggling carefree as the tourists stared the odd couple we made. The men offering medical marijuana evaluations high-fived him as he went past and, now that I was with Amir, told me their stories. They weren’t just advertisers for “legal pot!” but a pair of Ethiopian cousins doing a job that let them spend the day at the beach. Another was a homeless man who complimented my “pretty eyes.”

Cruising the boardwalk with Amir, it was no longer just a carnival of the bizarre to be gawked and snickered at; instead, even the Boardwalk caricatures revealed that they were people with lives, if the voyeuristic visitors cared to look.

“Walk and roll!” someone hollered to us from the bike path. Amir and I burst into giggles. Silly tourists.

 

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