Duck Attack Survival Story: How I Nearly Drowned in Three Feet of Water

Ever wondered what it feels like to be chased by a duck in open water? Don’t. It’s equal parts terrifying and ridiculous.

It was our last full day in Michigan on our cross country roadschool adventure. We met my Aunt at Marysville Beach on the St. Clair River. The setup was ideal: shallow water for the kids, plenty of sand for digging, and my Aunt sharing her chairs and chill music. My husband and I arrived late (four kids will do that), but we settled in with our usual beach chaos—shovels, snacks, and swimsuits.

The weather was warm for late September, a little windy, but the water felt refreshing. My Aunt casually mentioned there had been a bold duck bothering her while she was setting up. At the time, a “bold duck” didn’t sound like much of a threat. Spoiler alert: I should’ve listened.

The Swim That Turned into Survival

I slipped into the river and after an initial chilly, felt at peace. I love swimming, and as I daydreamed about my Grandma’s hometown across the water in Sarnia, I thought how easy it would be to swim to Canada if I really wanted. Boats drifted by, kids laughed on shore—it was bliss.

Until it wasn’t.

“Hey Mama, look behind you!” my 8-year-old shouted.

I turned. There he was. The duck. Gliding toward me with purpose.

At first, I admired him—his blue neck feathers catching the light. But he didn’t stop. He kept coming closer. And closer. Until he was nearly nose-to-beak with me. I splashed a little water to shoo him away. Big mistake. The duck dove straight under, disappearing into the murky water.

Cue panic.

I was treading water, scanning the surface like I’d just seen a shark fin. Every time I tried to swim toward shore, the duck cut me off like he was playing some twisted game of chicken. My husband kept yelling, “Just walk back! It’s shallow!” but somehow, that logic didn’t register. (I didn't realize until after the whole ordeal that I could’ve simply stood up the entire time.) In the moment, I was convinced I was in deep waters fighting for my life.

Enter the Rescue Squad

At this point, my coping mechanism kicked in: scream-laughing. The kids were doubled over on the beach. My daughter declared it was the “best show ever.” 

My husband, bless him, ripped off his shirt like Baywatch and prepared to come save me. My Aunt, thinking fast, tossed him one of the kids’ shovels—except it wasn’t a toy. It was a solid metal shovel. His plan? Punch the duck.

So now I wasn’t sure who I was more afraid of—the duck or my husband accidentally clocking me with a weapon-grade beach tool.

Meanwhile, beach strangers were pulling out their phones to document this bizarre showdown. One man sat in his car, apparently unable to look away. Later, we learned two older women had snapped photos, saying it was the “strangest thing they’d ever seen.”

Eventually, the duck lost interest and drifted off. My heart was pounding, my adrenaline surging. I staggered out of the water and immediately collapsed into hysterical belly laughter.

The Aftermath

My 8-year-old was disappointed it didn’t happen to him and insisted I should’ve just grabbed the duck by the neck. My 6-year-old was puzzled about why we were still talking about “that duck.”

My Aunt was disappointed she hadn’t gotten it on video, though she did stage a reenactment.

The kicker? A woman my Aunt knew arrived later and casually let the duck nibble her leg. “This duck is amazing,” she said. Apparently, she’d let him do it last week too.

Amazing? We clearly had different experiences with this bird.

What the Duck Taught Me

Looking back, it’s easy to laugh (and we do—my husband and I can’t retell the story without dissolving into giggles). But here’s the truth:

• We are never fully in control, no matter how much we want to be.

• Nature has a way of humbling us—sometimes through storms, sometimes through ducks.

• Laughter is real medicine. Even in the scariest, silliest moments, it heals.

  
  

My Grandma was deathly afraid of birds, and I thought about her a lot during this. Maybe I inherited a bit of her fear. Or maybe the duck was just a reminder: you can’t control everything, but you can choose how you respond.

Sometimes life throws you sharks. Sometimes life throws you ducks. Either way, you get to decide whether you sink, swim, or laugh your way through it.

We flail in shallow waters, convinced we’re drowning, when really, all we need to do is remember:

We can stand.

✨ Want to bring more peace and presence into your family’s days—without waiting for a duck to remind you? I put together a free guide, “5 Simple Rhythms for Calm + Connection at Home,” with ideas you can start using today (no swimming required).

Namaste