Related anecdote: a long time ago there was a hurricane in Florida. (I don't remember when exactlt but there were no lifeguards, so must have been out of season). Days passed, and the gift of a huge swell from across the whole Atlantic hit the coast. The wind was up a bit, so the choice was Newquay bay or Holywell to get some shelter from the wind. I decided to Holywell as some friends had just left for there and i just might catch them up.
There were five cars parked up and could see them at the end of the path to the beach as I pulled in to the field. I got changed quickly and selected the Big Wave Bodyboard (it has deeper channels to keep it in line, and a slightly more aggressive angle on the edges to stop it sliding down the wave). And put a shitton of cold water wax on it. I picked up the swim fins and jogged down to the waters edge. It had begun to drizzle slightly.
The tide was on its way in, so I didn't have too far to jog and standing on the edge of the water I did my stretches. There was a lot of water coming in. I could see the sandbanks pushing the waves up and it looked about 6 to 8 feet. Which was big for me but not out of my comfort zone. Paddling the forty to fifty yards out past the sandbank took forever. I would paddle three yards, take a breath, go under the wall of white water, and lose two as the forse of it pushed me back. Eventually, i reached the main impact zone and took a set on the head. After that I somehow got over the sandbank, out the back, and was able to look for my friends.
I couldn't see them. I couldn't hear much, either, just the constant white noise of the sea. I looked about for my friends and couldn't see them, either. As I considered this, i realised quite how far along the beach I had drifted, and, at about the same time, that although I was past the first sandbank, there must be s second as not too far away, the sea was walling up, rather quickly. And it was big. Very big.
I remember paddling as fast as I could out to sea, picking up a little speed as the wave in front of me seemed to pull water towards itself, seeing the feathering appear at the crest to my right and left as it began to break, and pushing as hard as I could to go up the face and get over the top. As the nose of the board left the water i kicked once more to clear the peak and folded my heels up to my bottom in case I got dragged back. Then i paddled a bit further out to take stock of the situation. And have a brief break.
I spent the next I don't know how long paddling against he current, trying to keep between the markers I chose on the beach. It was getting harder to see them as it rained more, and I was getting colder and tired. I felt very alone and a tiny bit of dread began to settle.
Amazingly, there was somebody else there. He paddled over and we had a brief chat about the situation, punctuated by nervous laughter, constant paddling and the occasional need to get over the larger waves. We both wanted to go in.
We waited for the right wave. The right wave was to be smaller than the others and hopefully it would land us right on the beach. If we got seperated, get back in first and get changed, then raise alarm.
The first time I paddle for a wave, it just went right under me. The swell was moving very quickly, quicker than I could paddle. So, i had to move closer to the breaking point. I saw my companion paddle for a wave and rapidly sit up and letting it pass. We watched it break all the way down the line. He shook his head. I paddled for the next one, and got to the edge and looked down. Spray was stinging my face the way hailstones do, and somewhere, a long way down was the way back to land.
It's really strange to recall that moment. It was like lying down on the roof of a moving van as a river boiled ten feet or more below. All was briefly silent. I sat up, pushed the rear of the board down to stall it, and looked over at the other guy. He'd gone on it. I saw a board pop up once about half way to the beach then saw him lying down on it riding the whitewater in.
I let the next few waves pass under me but push me closer to shore, aware the clock was ticking.
As I took the two paddle strokes to get the next wave I breathed out as much as I could. As the balance point of the board tipped over the precipice, I took the deepest breath I could and looked to where i wanted to begin my turn. The first bounce on the face of the wave knocked the breath out of me and the second landed me at the bottom on the flat of the board, skimming over the water with the broken wave behind. Somehow i was able to dig my hip into the board to force the rail in and change direction to head for the unbroken part of the wave. The hard bit was done.
Turning along the wave, i angled slightly downwards to puck up some speed. The full length was about to come down at once, and I'd rather be on it that under it.I turned back away from the beach and rode up the wave, turning back down just as the lip broke and tumbled down with me on it. I bounced up and down in the white water before popping out in front of it and rode it all the way to the shallows. When i was grounded i pulled off the swim fins and made my way back to the car park.
The other guy was changed. We grinned at each but said nothing. I got changed, texted my girlfriend to say I was out of the water, it had been OK, nithing special, and I'd call her later and went home.
Later on, in the pub, turns out, my friends had gone in, then changed their minds as the conditions were too bad. I didn't tell them of my adventure, as they would never believe me.
And that's the overly long anecdote about the sea and how it can be dangerous
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Mr Chris wrote: MaliA isn't just the best thing on the internet - he's the best thing ever.
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