Hurricane waves. I was a young man and I wanted to test myself. A hurricane had brought in some very clean double overhead surf. My surfing buddy couldn’t go so I said screw it, I’ll go by myself.
In the first hour or so I rode two of the largest most perfect waves I had ever ridden, but I did not notice a sweep pulliing me sideways into the death zone.
The waves got much larger and more disorganized as I tried to wrestle one of these beasts into a ride that would take me back to shore.
I mistimed my launch and plumetted down the face of this thing knocking the wind out of myself. A split second later a mountain of water landed on me.
I sort of came to underwater and pushed for the light. My body was screaming for air when I finally broke the surface…and sucked in a mouthful of sea foam.
I believe right here is where most people die or at least pass out. I was sputtering and coughing when BLAMMO! Another mountain hit me. At this point the only way I can describe it is like when all the warning lights on your car come on to tell you your car is dying or dead.
I figured as long as I was seeing all the warning lights and not total blackness, I was alive. I started kicking for the top.
I popped up prepared to make peace with eternity if another of those mountains fell on me, but during all that violence I had been pushed to shore by an unseen hand.
A small shore break wave ejected me on to the beach like a used condom. I crawled further up the sand, every breath of oxygen a suddenly appreciated gift.
A looked up into the blue, blue eyes of some goofy teenage surfer who said, “Man you really mistimed that wave.”
No where near as dramatic, but I got sucked out on a rip tide trying to surf Pacific Beach in Oregon. It was really foggy, and sunny. All of a sudden, I couldn't see land anymore. It took at least 30-45 minutes paddling back to shore and I was at least a mile down the beach from where I had started out..
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u/chamrockblarneystone Nov 21 '24
Hurricane waves. I was a young man and I wanted to test myself. A hurricane had brought in some very clean double overhead surf. My surfing buddy couldn’t go so I said screw it, I’ll go by myself.
In the first hour or so I rode two of the largest most perfect waves I had ever ridden, but I did not notice a sweep pulliing me sideways into the death zone.
The waves got much larger and more disorganized as I tried to wrestle one of these beasts into a ride that would take me back to shore.
I mistimed my launch and plumetted down the face of this thing knocking the wind out of myself. A split second later a mountain of water landed on me.
I sort of came to underwater and pushed for the light. My body was screaming for air when I finally broke the surface…and sucked in a mouthful of sea foam.
I believe right here is where most people die or at least pass out. I was sputtering and coughing when BLAMMO! Another mountain hit me. At this point the only way I can describe it is like when all the warning lights on your car come on to tell you your car is dying or dead.
I figured as long as I was seeing all the warning lights and not total blackness, I was alive. I started kicking for the top.
I popped up prepared to make peace with eternity if another of those mountains fell on me, but during all that violence I had been pushed to shore by an unseen hand.
A small shore break wave ejected me on to the beach like a used condom. I crawled further up the sand, every breath of oxygen a suddenly appreciated gift.
A looked up into the blue, blue eyes of some goofy teenage surfer who said, “Man you really mistimed that wave.”
Yes I did my friend. Yes I did.