Yesterday was not a good day for me
Forum: SurfZone
My computer told me the swell was 8 foot which up here in the winter can produce a 16 foot wave face. Too big, so I'll just play on the inside and try to catch some of the 6 to 8 foot faces breaking near the beach but I'll stay away from the outside.
The outside was breaking about a quarter of a mile out to maybe a half mile from the beach. No worries I thought. I've been surfing out here for three years and I get out probably 270 days a year. I’ve got a lot of experience for these beaches and waves…
Earlier at around 1 p.m., I was over the Marina looking at Damon Point with Thad, my board surfing buddy. We pretty much surf together all the time and Thad's been surfing for a lot longer than me and has lived here a lot longer than me. But then again, yesterday Thad said it was breaking over at my post at Damon Point (Thad calls it Butt Surfer post named after me). So I followed him out yesterday and sat around in the surf zone waiting and waiting and no swell, nothing. Conditions need to be right for the Harbor to break. It wasn't.
I left and headed to the main beach and paddled out at Pacific Blvd. Had a very nice solo session for about an hour or so.
So back to today and I’m at the Marina watching Thad looking at hardly a wave and telling him he’s wasting his time. “Let’s go to the outside,” I tell him. He says there’s no way he’ll surf the outside when the waves are double overhead on an outgoing tide. Whatever. I head over to the main beach and Thad goes out at Damon Point.
I've been out for maybe a half hour and I've caught 6 or 7 nice shoulder rides making a few bottom and top turns. The wave faces are about 5 to 8 feet. Good session so far.
In between sets, the waves are pretty small so I was just watching and waiting....
Before I knew it, I had drifted pretty far out because after all, the tide is sucking me out right in front of the big breakers about a quarter mile from the beach. I started paddling as fast as I could shoreward to get away from the impact zone and to try to ride the foam pile back in. No luck. I was getting sucked under the wall and pulled into the pit of the falling wave.
It held me under for what seemed like forever. I was making my roll, but every time I popped up out of the water it smacked me again and pushed me back down. Eventually after going through this routine three or so times, I had had enough and pulled the handle on my skirt to swim back to shore with the kayak in tow.
As I came up, however, the kayak was in between me and the pounding wave so I had to go under to avoid having the kayak take my head off. As I went under I tried grabbing on to the paddle leash that connects my paddle to the boat. No luck.
After that wave passed, I looked toward the beach and saw the kayak floating. I starting swimming for it. After about 10 minutes I reach the boat swimming against the tide and most likely swimming in a riptide. Whose to know? I was exhausted. This has happened numerous times to me before and almost every time, the incoming waves will push me and the kayak back to the beach and we'll head out and do it again.
Not this time. As I was hanging onto the kayak, the tide had sucked me back out to the breakers. I'm getting smack and smashed. I didn't have a great hold on the kayak. I was mainly holding onto the lip of the cockpit as it felt like I was in a clothes dryer being tossed and turned around. I was thinking at that point that something was desperately trying to take the kayak from me.
It did. I remember having the leash in my hand as the kayak was being ripped shoreward from me and eventually all I had in my grip was the paddle blade. It was gone again.
Totally exhausted at this point, I started back floating to shore toward the kayak. It wasn't as far away this time. The biggest problem facing me now was that I could see the massive foam piles racing towards me as I was back swimming to the shore and to my kayak. Every time they came through which was about every thirteen seconds, I had to go under to avoid the pounding. Eventually I swam with everything I had and got to my kayak. At this point, I was completely exhausted and was thinking that this is it. I‘m going to die. The last time I thought I was dead was on a Southwest flight flying from Reno to Seattle in a terrible snow storm back in 1996.
This was the first time in my kayak career that I really knew I was in trouble and I desperately wanted and needed help. All other times, I actually loved the thrill of getting back flipped over a 20 foot face and you name it. Many times the board surfers around here would decide to stay away from the outside during the winter because of the size and power of the wave. Not me, if I could see peeling faces or shoulders that would roll forever, I'd go at it alone.
I've kayaked rivers for about ten years and I've been kayak surfing since 2004. Part of the reasoning for moving from Tacoma to the beach was so I could kayak surf as often as I could.
Kayak surfing for me is a blast. Being that close to the ocean, the power of the swell and flying down a green face making the bottom turn to fly up a steep wall and back and back again is such a thrill. I love it. My personal nature as an overachiever is to push the limit. For kayak surfing, I've described myself as an extreme kayak surfer. I'll get bored riding 4 to 6 foot peeling faces inside the Harbor during the winter. At times, I felt the need to go for the big waves. The phrase that Thad uses is "risk versus payoff." Sometimes the risk of surfing in hazardous conditions is worth it because the payoff will be huge with excellent long rides. I subscribe to this. Why take it easy in the Harbor when there are real big payoffs on the outside. Having a rather cocky nature doesn't help me rationalize often either.
Hanging on to my kayak for my life, I wrapped the paddle leash four times around my left hand and wrist. I then pushed my right hand under the float in the right side of the stern and pulled out my whistle and water ski flag. I needed help and I was no longer messing around.
At some point through this, while just hanging on for my life, I had drifted about a mile out from the beach. I couldn't see the beach anymore, but I could see cars and the hotels and condos in town. Every time a swell pushed me up, I would wave my little orange flag in the air back and forth trying to get someone’s, anyone’s attention. By now it's 4:00 p.m. I paddled out at 1:45 p.m. and I figured that I've been in the water a good hour and a half. I was desperate, scared and freezing cold. I was shivering. I knew that hypothermia was kicking in. I kept waving my flagging and started singing to try to keep my cool.
The entire story can be read on my blog at http://nwkayaksurfing.blogspot.com/
