You know it. I know it. Everybody knows it. It's everywhere. It's inescapable. It's coming. Every forecast from every perspective says the swell is going to be HUGE. Guaranteed, for sure, get ready, time to do this, it's on.
I know everything I have done in my life up to this moment has been in preparation for this event. I know I have the necessary skill, talent, preparation, and perspective. I know I can do this, it is what I have dedicated my life to being ready for, this exact situation, this specific challenge.
So why am I still scared? Well, maybe not scared, I choose to not give my energy to fear, after all it is a four letter f-word, just like fall, and I have taken those words out of my vocabulary.
But maybe anxious is a better way to say it. I am excited, but still wary, uncertain. It is the unknowing that is killing me. My lack of experience in huge surf feels like a branding I wear across my face, a scarlet letter I cannot hide. Sure I have surfed some solid waves compared to most surfers that grew up in Southern California, thanks to over a decade of winters spent in Hawai'i, but in the real world, the world with real waves, SoCal isn't even on the map. We are hidden on the lee side of a continent, in the bight behind Point Conception, tucked in its shadow, and sheltered by the scattered offshore islands, with a big continental shelf extending out into the sea ahead of us, a scenario that prevents almost all major swell from being able to reach our shoreline with any significance. Very different from places like Western Australia, South Africa, or islands dotting the Pacific, like the one I am on right now. These places, like this Pacific Island chain here in Hawai'i, have open ocean swells marching straight onto the shallow reefs, unobstructed, with the full force of the world's largest ocean behind them. Water is moving over here, a lot of it, focusing into huge chunks of ocean that surfers here call waves. Waves that look considerably different than what I grew up calling waves.
But, nonetheless, they are still waves. Liquid manifestations of universal energy. So I know I can adapt, evolve, and expand my perspective to a greater magnitude, in order to become one with the flow, and coexist within these waves, ones that exist with exponentially larger size, power, and energy.
My good friend over here is one of the gnarliest humans I know. He grew up surfing Hawai'ian waves, and thinks the surf is flat anytime it is below double overhead. He is one of those guys that could almost be considered a madman, due to his perspective on waves being so warped compared to most of society, that very few can even relate to him. After all, insanity is defined due to its divergence from the status quo, and the waves he lives for most people would consider a death wish. But his confidence and comfort in heavy surf has helped me incredibly over the course of my life, to realize that is an available perspective to have in these types of conditions. Grace under pressure.
So when he saw the weather charts and swell forecasts, he gave me the heads up. "It's going to be on, so you better be ready." He and his firefighter/lifeguard tow parter like to tow surf the biggest waves they can find, and when he "invited" me to ride a couple waves as this swell filled in, I didn't really have any option but going.
Sleeping was a little tough last night, just because of the anticipation. So much hype on the swell, so many thoughts running through my head, a little overwhelming. Mid morning the buoy starts to jump, solid start and steadily increasing. Taking our time cruising around, having some lunch and acting like it is just any other day, I know that keeping my mind quiet is the only path. We get down to the beach and there are waves, but they are by no means huge, maybe almost double overhead, so we sit and watch the ocean for a good hour plus.
And it starts building. First the outer reefs start to show signs of life, with big swell lines pulsing up from out of the depths, marching in toward shore. The sets on the reef start to build, becoming slowly but surely bigger and more consistent. Then the outer reefs start to feather, the crest of the swells beginning to feel bottom and crumble up top, with rings of whitewater highlighting the horizon. And when the first real 8' Hawai'ian wave hits the reef, it's on. Time to get the ski prepped and in the water.
The two of them head out into the ocean and start to score some incredible waves. Big, heavy, solid waves, but still incredible, linking up amazing rides. I wait on the shore as they trade off, staying focused on the ocean, getting in sync with the sets, feeling the rhythm of the ocean and getting in tune with its timing. Now the outer reefs are breaking heavily, much bigger and much more often, and the really outer reefs are starting to awaken. It is getting BIG. The anticipation is tough, with all of the projections my mind can create about how gnarly these slabs are, how heavy the water is, and the deadly thrashing that exists in the impact zone. Staying calm (I know is the path). Excited but relaxed (is what I'm telling myself). Totally confident (I believe myself completely, right?). But this is the only way. And I know it.
It's all about perspective. Power of the mind. Cool, calm, and confident, knowing everything is coming together just as it is meant to, and I am just this one piece in the cosmic puzzle, fitting right in place. Even as the swell continues to build, the outer reefs keep bombing away with huge barrels, and the reef begins to look like a hectic cauldron of rough water, all is good. I am living in the now, and right now all is good. Even when I get out there, it is all going to be good, and if at any point that is not the situation, I will deal with it in the now, not here projecting it into the future. When I see someone pull into a heavy section and disappear, I assume they got axed, and am amazed when they pop out of the end section to finish with one last hook in the pocket. Then when they hop on the ski and it heads in instead of back out, I know I am ready.
They come in to pick me up, and we are straight back out there, for my first big wave tow-in session ever. My friends said my eyes were as big as golf balls popping out of my head, and as much as they are champion hecklers, I honestly was a bit blown away at the magnitude of the surf.
My first wave is surreal. Easily as big as the biggest wave I had ever previously ridden, that I paddled into about 5 years ago at this same spot. Taking the whip from the ski and letting go of the rope was intense, committing myself, knowing I'm going. My friend's tow board is epic, super solid and holds in really well, while still being responsive and flying with tons of speed across the face. Just getting to feel it out on this big liquid canvas is amazing, so incredible! I kick out in the channel and they come to pick me up, ready to head back up the reef for another one. My adrenaline is pumping, but I'm still just cruising. It really is just like surfing has always been, pick the right line and surf your wave.
It's all about perspective, realizing the same patterns I know extended to a grander scale, and harnessing the similarities. That is where the comfort is found, the familiarity to make everything flow as I have envisioned. All of the projections of what might happen in the future don't exist. I am here. Now. There is nothing else. There never has been, it is only illusion. My focus on the present moment makes everything simple. While the lulls occur, we sit out the back and talk like we do while watching the surf from shore, and when the sets come and waves appear, we get focused and make the most out of the opportunities nature provides.
My next two waves are a little funky and don't line up like I had hoped, so we head back out for another one. Then it comes. I knew it would. It was inevitable. A bomb set starts stacking solid black lines charging in toward us. I know it's on. And all of the anticipation and expectation doesn't even register, because it doesn't exist. Only right here, right now. Grab the rope. Get up on my feet. And go.
My friend is racing the ski along the crest of the swell and points to his left, to this gurgle of water sucking off of the shelf and starting to stand up, and I know this is it. I am here. Now. I let go of the rope, and trim back left to get over the ledge and ahead of the gurgle. I drop straight in, letting the wave face stand up in front of me, watching it continue to grow and grow, higher and higher. Then I start to think, "I might want to begin heading down the line now," and watch the wave continue to grow, bigger and bigger. I set my line and begin streaking across the face of this chunk of ocean, watching the wall line up for 100 yards ahead of me. I wondered what was going on behind me, and took a peek back at the bowl, instantly freaked out by the amount of rugged water contained in the lip detonating behind me, and told myself not to do that again. Just keep my focus on the wave face in front of me, pick my line, and make my wave. Toward the end of the big section, the wave slowed down for a second, and let me draw a big sweeping carve off the top of the face back down toward the trough, burning off some of my speed and setting me up for the end section, where I connected through kicking out once again into the channel. Peaking on adrenaline, so stoked when my friends came to pick me up on the ski, beaming like the light of the sun. Easily the biggest wave I have ever surfed in my life.
As the sun began to set, we packed up the ski and gear, and I realized how significant this experience was for me. Not just for my surfing goals, but for my life goals. All of the conjecture and contemplation, anticipation and projection, mind games and brain warps, none of it mattered when it really mattered. In the now. Living every moment to its fullest involves maintaining your awareness, your ability to remain present and focused on the current situation. The only way to know how a situation will unfold is to put yourself right in the middle of it, to test your strength and your character, by living it. I believe we will always find that actually doing something is much easier than thinking about doing something, creating obstacles and boundaries that only exist as illusions in our mind, and have no bearing in reality. Take the opportunity to take up the challenges that you believe to be the toughest, for it is in these situations where we can find the greatest learning and personal growth. Free your mind, live in the now, and become the person you know you already are.
Making our way in
Photo by Steve Knox
