
DATE: Sunday, July 27, 1997                 TAG: 9707250280

SECTION: CAROLINA COAST          PAGE: 48   EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: BY MILES DANIELS, STAFF WRITER 

DATELINE: KILL DEVIL HILLS                  LENGTH:   95 lines

LIFEGUARD STAYS FOCUSED DESPITE CROWDED BEACHES AND CONSTANT COME-ONS

Lives depend on him.

Girls love him.

And for eight hours a day, six days a week, the scorching sun beats down on his chestnut-colored shoulders.

Jeremy Boice's job as a lifeguard is full of adrenaline, heat and Gatorade.

``We don't just sit in the stand and look at girls all day,'' Boice says, scanning the 1,000-yard stretch of shoreline he patrols. ``Our primary focus is the water and keeping in shape.

``I guard a pretty tough section of the beach.''

Boice, 24, sits alone in a wooden stand watching nearly 1,500 people who sun bathe and swim in the ocean between Avalon Pier and the Sea Ranch Hotel.

``This is by far the toughest water on the East Coast,'' Boice says, referring to the rip currents off the Outer Banks that often pull victims out to sea. ``Tourists think it's a big swimming pool.''

As a lifeguard, Boice wraps wounds made by sharp seashells, takes vital signs of people who've suffered heat exhaustion and administers the Heimlich maneuver and CPR to those he's pulled out of the Atlantic.

``I can't really go by what I hear, but what I see,'' Boice says. ``I'm looking for somebody who looks out of place. Generally, a person in need of help is gonna be trying to stay up.

``But their swim strokes will be very weak and sloppy.''

Most of Boice's rescues involve youth from ages 9 to 15.

``Kids, being smaller in size, get out a little too far and can't touch bottom anymore,'' Boice says. ``They start struggling and take in more water than adults generally would because they lose their cool.''

During the two summers he has worked for Bob Gabriel's Lifeguard Beach Service, Boice has saved more than 20 drowning victims.

``We're not in the water every 10 minutes pulling somebody out,'' Boice says. ``Boredom does have something to do with the job.''

Rescues are the highlight of Boice's $6.75 per hour job.

``It's a good adrenaline rush,'' he says of his occasional saves. ``Knowing that if you weren't there someone would have drowned makes you feel that the hundreds of training hours paid off.''

Boice and 35 other lifeguards meet on the beach at 7:30 every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning to make sure they're in shape.

The hour-long workout session includes 80 to 100 push-ups and sit-ups, 40 jumping jacks, a 2.5-mile run, and a swim that's twice as long as the Avalon Pier.

Boice, like most lifeguards, has a muscular build which often attracts the opposite sex.

``A lot of them (girls) come up and ask what time it is - and they're wearing a watch,'' Boice says of the nearly 20 females who've requested his phone number this summer.

Other beach babes ask him where to eat, party and the all-time worst come on:

``Can I see your tan line?''

Boice attributes the love of lifeguards to ``Baywatch,'' a popular television show depicting the ocean rescuers as perfectly-shaped, muscular beach gods.

``People see a buoy, red shorts and a tan and they automatically think of Baywatch,'' Boice says of the show he doesn't watch. ``It has portrayed us in a good way.

``Girls are definitely interested in lifeguards.''

Boice's scorching job and massive physique cause him to ``eat like an animal.''

Every day he gulps down more than six gallons of lemon-lime Gatorade and devours nearly five sandwiches atop the 10-foot stand.

``When you keep your body in good shape, it tends to want more,'' Boice says.

On the days he doesn't have to work out, Boice takes the stand at 9:30 a.m. and doesn't make his final descent until 5:30 p.m.

At night, when most tourists have left the beaches and the sweltering sun has been replaced by a cool moon, Boice either is home watering his tomato plants or chilling out at Hurricane Alley, a favorite spot for local beach lifeguards. In a few hours, though, he will be back on his stand scanning the beaches to make sure everyone stays safe.

``The most rewarding part of my job is the thanks you get,'' Boice says. ``Thanks not only from the victims, but from the people on the beach who either applaud you or say, `Hey, good job?!' when you make a rescue.'' ILLUSTRATION: Staff photo by DREW C. WILSON

Lifeguard Jeremy Boice swims back to the beach, rescue buoy in tow,

while keeping a keen eye on swimmers at 5th Street in Kill Devil

Hills. His job is full of adrenaline, heat and Gatorade. ``We don't

just sit in the stand and look at girls all day,'' Boice says,

scanning the 1,000-yard stretch of shoreline he patrols. ``Our

primary focus is the water and keeping in shape.''

Graphic

HOW TO SEE HIM

Who: Jeremy Boice

What: Oceanfront lifeguard

Where: Fifth Street, east of K-Mart, milepost 6 on the beach in

Kill Devil Hills