Events
True Surfing Stories
Nervous in dark water by Dr. Bruce Gabrielson
I got caught once at Laniakea in Hawaii on the jetty and was cut up pretty bad. I took off so far inside that I went left instead of right. I lost my board and it started to float out in the boat harbor channel. I was bleeding but had to swim out to retrieve my board or loose it and then paddle into the boat channel to get back in. The water is dirty and there are sharks around so I was very nervous during the entire episode. When I was about 20 foot inside the jetty channel, something big (my guess a shark) bumped my board so hard it knocked me off. I grabbed for my board and jumped on it then paddled for the rocks inside the jetty as fast as I could go. I cut my feet up more on the rocks but at least I didn’t get attacked again. It was a couple of weeks before I could go out there again on a big day. I still get nervous in dark water.
I had another interesting time with a shark when I was surfing in the late 70s at the Cannery in Mexico with a couple of my friends when we saw a good size shark up close. The cannery workers had been dumping waste off the pier about 100 yards from where we were surfing and it was later in the day with great surf and still daylight. A big fin came up and leisurely moved along the outside about 40 feet from where we were in the water. The water was clear and the guy closest to it saw the shark quite well. About the same time a set came through and we all cleared out as a group and no one stood up on the waves, we just proned into the beach. The shark stayed around for awhile swimming back and forth so it ended our day in the water. The waves were super. The only other time I can remember an encounter up close was in Ocean City, Maryland. I was surfing almost at dark near the Inlet about medium tide. The waves weren’t big or consistent but every now and then a 3-4 foot wave with great shape would roll through. There were maybe 6 other surfers in the water and I was just sitting on my board. I felt a solid bump on my leg sort of a sideways glance. It was interesting that I could feel a larger rounded nose sort of like a football helmet. Also the skin was coarse like sandpaper. I paddled straight in to the shallower water and then climbed up on the beach. The other surfers saw me and went in also, but I don’t think they saw anything. I haven’t ever heard of a real shark attack in OC, but the area is a breeding ground and they are around.
A wipeout before by Michael Thompson
Nothing like a nice wipeout before you even hit the water properly. I had one of these in my early twenties at a place called Cowries; it is normally a dry hair paddle out. As you jump off the rock shelf into 15-20ft of water, the only hassle is that you have to launch onto a swell, and it’s best in between sets as larger waves hit the rock face and explode straight up. A surfing friend and I went for a wave there one day, I had lined up right behind to jump but he left it to the last minute, too late for me as tons of water fell over me and washed me several yards over barnacle encrusted rocks. The board I had at the time was almost brand new and it was close to a write off afterwards. Something similar like this happened last week when Windang Island was going off at 10-12ft. Two inexperienced bodyboarders got out the back ok, but got rolled by a massive set, worst of all just on dark. Windang Island is one of those places you cannot paddle back into the same place you jumped from, you have to go 500 metre across very deep water to Warilla beach, but there was a rip off the beach which stopped them getting ashore.
Redsands is another tricky break in that even over 10ft, or even 15ft you can slip out the back with dry hair by jumping off rocks just off to the right side of this pic. My friends and I used to surf this place every time it worked, it was really nothing more than a fast takeoff, then straight into a tubing end section, no time for any fancy moves. But in the 70's and 80's we saw our share of people who had no idea. One guy I remember even paddled out thinking it was a sandbank, Redsands is not a place you surf without a wetsuit, no matter how hot, when you went over the falls and onto 2ft deep reef you would need protection. Another guy we watched went out just in his boardshorts, lost it on wave number 1 right on the take off and went back first onto the reef, it was not a pretty sight. In the pic below that wave is probably pitching in 5-6ft a water, but just in front of it the top of the reef may be about waist deep, as it is high tide.
The Broken Boards by Kevin Boswell
I was out at Huntington beach on my first trip to California. I had an old Maxwell 9'0" and a 6'4" so being the avid longboarder that I am, I took the longboard out instead. Well it ended up to be a bad idea because the waves were closing out and were about head high and it was pretty powerful surf. I took one wave, walked the nose and unexpectedly it closed out on the back of my board and it ate it hard.
As I was paddling back out to the lineup and I noticed that every time I pushed through a wave, half of my board would move one way and the other half went the other way. When I finally made it out the back I had a good look at it and saw that it had broken in half. So I had to buy a new board and then proceeded to break that one as well. I was out at Rincon on another occasion when it was again well overhead on the sets. The point was firing and the people were not too bad, I had been surfing nicely so far and it was looking to be a good session. Then I took this macker and ended up on the bottom getting tossed over all of the rocks. When I came up I found myself inside and about to get pounded so I swam for the bottom and as the wave passed over me I was once again dragged all over the rocks. I finally got back on my board and was paddling like a madman to get outside and then it happened. A huge wave started welling up in front of me and the only thing I could do was ditch the board and go to the bottom. So I did and got worked over because of it. Then I popped up and noticed that I did not get pulled very hard that time and turned around and saw that the back half of my brand new board floating next to me and the other half was floating into the rocks on shore. So I screwed myself and wished that I had not taken that wave.
The Infamous Leishmaniosis Mosquito by David Henderson
I'm gonna take the day off tomorrow and go for a wave. The Boss doesn't know yet - got a good excuse though - we have a team from the National Health Foundation and the Oswaldo Cruz Foundation going up to the ranch (home in the hills) some time during the day in search of the infamous Leishmaniosis Mosquito. I got bitten some time during the year and the couple of bites came up like your ordinary every day boil (didn't know they were bites at the time) so treated them like your ordinary every day boil (basically just let them grow to a head and then take it from there - probably a little squeeze or two...) anyways - the little volcanoes finally lost there respective heads in the shower and when I looked there was a respectful crater to each. That got me a bit concerned and the wife suggested I go visit a doctor. So I checked at my friend the local doctor and he treated them like boils giving me some antibiotics and some dumb cream or other. Anyway, ten days later the volcanoes had become shallow and spread out in a ever increasing circle surrounded by a high ridge looking something like the Rio football stadium "Maracana". Now I started to get really worried. Was I going to loose my leg? Did I have leprosy? Checked another doctor and he told me to change my diet (which was a good idea) and do a blood test. The test was perfect. The doc's face went blank white - no easy diagnosis. He didn't know what he was up against. He asked if we had dogs up at the ranch and my wife clicked. She was given a divine revelation.
Happened that upon helping a friend of hers out some time back she had seen this kind of wound in the waiting room of a clinic she had visited with her friend who also had a similar thing on her leg. Turned out I was harbouring Leishamiosis parasites who were using my leg for a honeymoon and feeding frenzy, multiplying madly. The treatment is the same as it was in 1910. Intramuscular injections of antimonium. So now I light up in the night! Nah just kidding. Got given 34 x 5 mls in arms and butt but that did it for them parasites. So why am I telling this whole long story for? Oh - I remember... the National Health people and the Oswaldo Cruz (they make vaccines) are going to my house during the course of the day tomorrow in order to collect blood from the animals and maybe even the family and whatever else their gonna do. Don't really care - It's an excuse to go for a surf. Hope the waves are good. They haven't been for some time but today was blowing offshore and a 3ft swell made for some good looking waves (always looks great when there are commitments) When the crowd arrived to do their leshamniosis thing I was out surfing one foot Macumba. (A longboarder’s wave that can hold some size and offers a long ride). Water was freezing but baggied it all the same. Kept thinking of the surfers in PNW (the Lemming). Water was actually warm by comparison I'm sure. Anyway, couldn't allow me much time so only caught four or five. Waves were breaking nicely if not a bit full. Hardly a breath of wind. Great after I don't know how long without a surf. Anyways - we missed the leish hunt but apparently the foundation crew collected blood samples from all the hounds around and we should know sometime next week if any of the dogs shall have to be put down. ('Fraid that's what they do if a dog is harbouring the protazoa of this parasite) My dog already got tested by the local vet who said she's clean. Hmm. Here's praying the test is confirmed 'cos it would be a bummer to see her go - she's a fine animal, great guard dog, hunter (I try to kerb her hunting instincts by making sure she gets her feed regularly or else she goes either for the local wildlife (so far: rabbit, skunk, armadillo, ant eater) which is a shame or somebody's chickens or even geese (which is also a bummer and can be politically incorrect). She's also tried to catch porcupine before now and that usually ends up with me driving fast to the vet holding the dog at distance whilst she's going wild with zillions of needles keeping her mouth open. That is a scene to be seen! First time she got done by a porcupine must have been in the early hours of the morning 'cos I sleepily looked down on the hound and wondered where she had picked up that yellow beard. Turned out it was loads of spikes. What a freak out. Dog had to be totally knocked out in order to be able to have the vet, helper and myself yank them needles out with forceps or whatever."Just another surf story" by Lloyd "Jack" Johnston
To put these words down on paper or rather, to tap them slowly into a machine that glows in my face, is about as distant an act as it can conceivably be from what I am thinking. I write these thoughts to answer a question so often asked over the years and perhaps out of a deeper need to reassess my passion. Perhaps spurred on by something a friend said to me last night: "Is this what it’s all about? Is this as good as it gets?". These words coming from probably the most talented well-equipped person I know! My God, what if he’s right! When did it all get so grey? At what point did the edge’s blur?
My mind wanders back to a spring day a lifetime ago. The time is around 11am. The air is un- seasonably cool. Crisp. Everything seems crisp. I stand on the small boulders trying not to slip into the rock pools. My eyes scan the horizon.
"How big do you reckon?" My stomach tenses. Will my voice give me away and reveal the paralysing fear that I’m trying so valiantly to suppress? "Umm...I don’t know.....Maybe eight, ten foot on the sets". I pull off the nonchalant reply perfectly. The peak is clean. A set rolls in. The first one stands up in full grandeur and as if in slow motion the lip starts to pitch out. It takes what feels like an age before the glasslike bowl explodes in a release of kinetic energy from the impact. Shit! It’s big. My stomach wrenches. I’m positive you can actually see my legs shaking. "Let’s do it".
Something in my brain switches off. I dive forward, arch by back and reach forward for my first stroke. As my fingertips touch the icy water another switch is tripped. It is as if she is washing away analytical thought. Purging my brain of "correct" thoughts. Something deep inside me is fed. Fear and calm piggyback each other. I look over my shoulder and smile.
Another set marches in and as if rehearsed, the ballet begins. Fluid power, galvanised into action by wind, gravity and distant bodies. I paddle up what feels like a small hill. I look left. I peer deep into the barrel. God! I reach the peak and make sure I’m not too deep inside. He smiles at me and I realize I’ve been grinning. For how long I don’t know. "Beautiful hey". Not a question. Not a statement. Fact. I nod. Shards of light pierce the surface of the water and plumb down into the depths where things lose their colour and the blue grey is all there is. Still.
I look up. The horizon seems to be morphing itself. A set begins to build and that feeling in my stomach returns. Breathe. Breathe deeply into your stomach. Relax. I stare, almost transfixed. Absorbing all I can. Time stretches and actions happen automatically.
There is no place for analytical thought. Not now. Not here. I spin my board and push forward off the submerged tail propelling myself forward. I look over my right shoulder and see water beginning to move up the face of the ever building swell. Somewhere my brain registers a voice shouting "Go for it". Did I hear that or did I think it?
My hands move deliberately through the water thrusting me forward. Rhythm. I feel my body being drawn back. Back and up. My body registers height and pitch. I look over the nose of my board and down into the bowl. I’m being lifted and driven forward by and immense force. One extra stoke. Remember one extra stroke could give you the speed that makes the difference between getting pitched and making it. Breathe. Time slows and fades away. I clasp my rails and in one fluid motion swing my legs forward. I sense the pressure under my feet. My vision tunnels as I begin to drop.
The speed is immense and unexpected. The water somehow seems to harden beneath my board. I reach the bowl in a split second. Made the drop. Keep your head. Instinctively I put it on the inside rail. My legs feel weak against such incredible inertia. I bend my knees. Lock my thighs and drive the rail in hard, holding the turn. The board explodes out of the turn and I have to turn hard to set my line and prevent being catapulted straight up the face and over the back. For an instant the board slows as I feel myself being pulled up the face. Shit! I’m too high. My line is just too bloody high. I lose focus and fear rushes in and instantly consumes me.
My body takes over. It seems to take over with mechanical, computer driven precision. In a fraction of a second, speed, distance, gravity and direction collide, are calculated and transferred into physical action. My outside rail frees up and I’m rushing back down the face. I manage to maintain my inside rail’s precarious footing in the face. It starts to wall up all the way down the line. I set the rail and know that the lip will pitch. The thick unyielding lip begins to pitch out about five feet in front of me.
I remember looking at this very scene from the shoulder as I was paddling out. Only this time I’m inside looking out and my God it is such a different perspective. The barrel seems to rush up and over me from a place somewhere over my left shoulder. I dare not look back. It seems far to fast to be mabeable. I feel myself getting overtaken and being pulled in. Just keep your line and drive as far down the line as you can. If I lose it now the next set wave will surely get me. Breathe.
I remember having watched this kind of thing a million times from the comfort of a lounge chair. Laughing, hooting and the plethora of "Ow...poor bastard" as some poor sole gets executed by an avalanche of water. Today would be my turn to feel it firsthand. The words divine retribution flash through my head.
I am now in a place I have never been before. There is noise, yet I hear no sound. There is immense speed, but I feel completely still. Time does not exist. It is cool and beautiful. It’s not merely a beauty of words or pictures, of sounds or colours. It is all these and more. It is nothing and everything. It just...is. I absorb it all and it is stored deep in my brain for eternity.
Something explodes behind me. As the immense burst of power hits me from behind I feel as though I am going to be blown off my board. Board and body somehow accelerate in unison. Water is flying everywhere and I can see almost nothing. Everything is bright and loud. As my eyes clear a realization hits me. I made it. Shit.....I MADE IT! I’m made aware of my speed as I rocket over the fading shoulder and go skiing over flat water, slowing fast. I arch my back and do a big sweeping ark on the flat water as I slow. I grab my rails and ease myself down onto the deck as the energy lent to me leaves. As I take my first stroke back out to the peak I look up and see a smile that will stay with me for life. I paddle up next to him. We are both sporting childlike grins that rap around our faces. We both start stroking our way back to the peak. Still smiling he looks straight ahead and says "That was awesome.....My God....that was awesome".
So now I have written these thoughts and perhaps I hoped I would find answers. One answer is very clear. As surfers we are lucky. We choose to spend our time in a place that we have not one iota of control over. We can always return to that place. Forget the car repayments, bad TV and road rage. At the water’s edge it’s all behind us. At anytime we can choose to leave all the crap behind.
"Is this what it’s all about? Is this as good as it gets?"
I phoned up my friend that asked me the question, the same friend that was out with me on that magical spring morning. Sure enough he had the answer all the time: "Hello" "Hi...It’s me. How you doing?" "Aa OK you know...Works a bitch and I’m really missing living at the coast and I’m shitting off trying to make the payments on the new car, surviving I s’pose"
"Listen, I was just writing something....do you remember that epic spring day when it got so big and it was just us out"
"Yes.....Oh my God.....Do you remember that monster barrel you snagged. Shit that was unreal and.............."and so over the next half an hour things became crystal clear. We reminisced, laughed and made plans to rent a house up the coast over the summer break.
In conclusion we both agreed that in fact there was more to life and we both knew it all along. We knew it at fourteen and we still knew it now. We merely let the other "stuff" of life cloud the issue. We just needed a reminder.
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updated 16/2/2002
(published with permission of authors)