Tamayo Perry, 49, has died after being killed by what is thought to have been a shark attack.Emergency Medical Services in Honolulu said Tamayo’s body was found on Sunday with several bite marks on it.
A lifeguard and surf instructor, who had roles in movies like Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides and Blue Crush, died Sunday due to a suspected shark attack on Oahu’s North Shore, Hawaii, officials reported.
Tamayo Perry, 49, was a respected North Shore waterman and had served with Honolulu Ocean Safety for eight years, according to a statement by Honolulu Mayor Rick Blangiardi.
“It is with profound sadness that we mourn the loss of one of our incredibly dedicated City and County of Honolulu lifeguards, who tragically lost his life today in an apparent shark attack on the North Shore,” Blangiardi said. “Our hearts go out to his family, friends, and colleagues in Ocean Safety during this incredibly difficult time.”
Perry “exemplified bravery, commitment and a deep sense of duty, serving our community with unwavering dedication. His heroic actions and tireless efforts to ensure the safety of our residents and visitors will never be forgotten,” Blangiardi added.
Emergency Medical Services in Honolulu said Tamayo’s body was found on Sunday with several bite marks on it.
The Honolulu Emergency Services Department issued a statement writing a surfer was “fatally injured” in a shark attack off Goat Island on June 23, just before 1 p.m. local time.
The person who called the emergency services reported that the surfer’s body had multiple bite wounds.
His body was brought ashore by lifeguards using a Jet Ski, and EMS paramedics declared him dead at the scene, officials said. The surfer was identified as Perry, confirmed by Ocean Safety.
Acting Chief Kurt Lager of Honolulu Ocean Safety stated at a press conference, “Tamayo Perry was a lifeguard loved by all.”
Emilia Perry, a fellow surfer, said of her husband, “Tragic though his passing may be, he left this world doing what he loved, where he loved to do it.”
According to Surfer magazine, Perry was renowned for his expertise at Pipeline, one of the world’s most famous surf breaks, located off Ehukai Beach Park on Oahu’s north side.
The Encyclopedia of Surfing notes that he was close friends with singer Jack Johnson and was born and raised on Oahu’s east side.
Perry and his spouse ran a surf school together on the North Shore of Oahu.
On Monday, condolences poured in from across the surfing community.
“This one is hard to believe,” surfing legend Kelly Slater wrote, “Your truly lived the life you loved.”
We are so very sorry for this loss. May he rest in peace.
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Yesterday, I found a sandwich packed for my work lunch along with a note from our 10-year-old foster son
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, a comforting scent that usually signaled the start of a hectic workday. But yesterday, it was different. Yesterday, the kitchen held a quiet magic, a warmth that transcended the simple act of brewing coffee.
On the kitchen table, amidst the usual clutter of keys and mail, sat a neatly packed lunch bag. Beside it, a folded piece of paper, its edges slightly crumpled. A note.
My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the familiar, slightly slanted handwriting. It was Colton’s. Our 10-year-old foster son.
We’d opened our home to fostering after years of battling infertility. The empty rooms of our house had echoed with a longing that no amount of well-meaning advice could fill. We wanted to give a child a chance, a safe haven, a loving family.
Colton had arrived a year ago, a whirlwind of boundless energy and insatiable curiosity. He was a dreamer, a boy who found wonder in the simplest things. He loved riding his bike, exploring the neighborhood, and most of all, he loved helping in the kitchen, his eyes sparkling with the ambition of a future chef.
The note was simple, written in his characteristic, slightly misspelled script: “Lunch for you. Have a good day. Love Colton.”
And inside the lunch bag, a perfectly assembled sandwich, wrapped in wax paper, a small bag of chips, and a bruised but perfectly ripe apple.
It wasn’t just a sandwich. It wasn’t just a note. It was a testament to the bond we’d built, a tangible expression of the love that had blossomed between us.
For months, I’d felt a shift within me, a growing certainty that Colton wasn’t just a foster child, he was our son. The way he’d seamlessly woven himself into our lives, the way he’d filled the empty spaces in our hearts, it was undeniable.
That note, that simple gesture of love, solidified it. It was a quiet affirmation of what I already knew.
I shared the note with my wife, Sarah, her eyes welling up with tears as she read it. We looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between us. It was time.
Today, we made the decision official. We’re going to adopt Colton.
The paperwork is already underway, the legal process a mere formality compared to the emotional journey we’ve already undertaken. We’re planning a surprise for him, a small celebration to mark this momentous occasion.
We’ve decorated his room with balloons and streamers, a banner proclaiming “Welcome to your forever home!” We’ve baked his favorite chocolate chip cookies, and Sarah has even prepared a special dinner, a culinary masterpiece that would make any aspiring chef proud.
Tonight, when Colton returns from school, we’ll gather around the kitchen table, the same table where I found his note, and we’ll tell him the news.
I imagine his eyes widening with disbelief, then filling with tears of joy. I imagine him running into our arms, his small frame shaking with emotion.
And I know, with absolute certainty, that this is the best decision we’ve ever made. We’re not just giving Colton a home; he’s giving us a family, a love that’s richer and more profound than we ever imagined.
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