There’s a bridge that links the mainland to the peninsula. The first Tacoma Narrows Bridge opened in 1940 and was soon called Galloping Gertie as it swayed with the wind. My mother and her dear friend Marilyn, would row to the base of the bridge, tie it up and jump off the pilings into the water.
Aside: tides are as quick as the wind through this passage.
She and Marilyn had a marvelous time with no thought to the safety, the black unknown of the water, or the creatures therein.
I believe that she would feel better and be less apt towards dementia and alzheimer’s if she was lulled to sleep in a basin of water. She needs that movement to ease the closing of her mind.