I decide that I will go. I have to paddle out from the little harbour. The way out is washed by whitewater which makes it tricky…then it’s a point break. That means you can stay on the shoulder and not get caught. That’s what I do, for one long hour. It’s impossible to get into this wave that is faster than it looked from the shore. And then, I decide I must either drop in or go home. Alea iacta est, I guess! I score one of the medium size waves and drop in. The wave sucks and accelerates. My (too short 6’11) board doesn’t. I see that I am not gonna make the section and I immediately think of the lone rock that famously lurks right in front of the take off zone.
So I give up. That photo is the only one I have: the moment just before the wild wipe out when you are realize you have to eject and prepare to eat it big time. That’s exactly what happened. When I reach the surface again I am two meters away from that rock with another wave coming at me…
So you put your head between your arms and wait for the punishment. Thinking that you’re an idiot. That all the signs were there: no one out, big, ugly waves. Too much ego. Done. But sometimes you’re lucky and things just go right. The surge of water pushed me past the rock without a scratch. My heart is hammering 190! I need to go back to the beach, never mind the 30 minutes paddling ahead of me with the ripping current and the tiny harbour entrance that you must not miss! One hour later, I’m back out there, with a surfboard this time. I have been lucky and I had the spot to myself. I know that I got a few more experience points that will help later… The idea of getting away for short escapes more often has fermented in my mind for a while. There are so many places that can be perfect if you choose the right time. The toys we have today allow us to have fun in so many conditions. You know you can get in the ocean almost whatever happens.
