Whisper, you remind me of my brother. He has this notion of some kind of
cosmic balance.
I liked your story about nearly drowning, and what life actually meant.
Personally, I think it was dead on the money, and a good way to approach
life.
BTW, your story was similar to what happened to me. As you told it I
could almost feel mine...
I used to like to body surf, and at that time lived in a small town on
the central CA coast. I'm guessing I was about 30 when this happened.
A friend and myself liked to try to ride virtually anything, but in
point of fact, there isn't much big on the Central CA coast that doesn't
close out over ~6 feet.
In late summer we heard there was an major storm in the south Pacific,
and we thought that this might offer some surf--this was often the case
with typhoons. We'd get pretty even sets near 6 feet, lot of space
between peaks. From the headlands, it looked like wide-wale corduroy.
So we got out the and the peaks were way the fuck out there, the tops
were about even with the deck of the fishing pier, and there was a lot
of white water out front.
Challenging, and if I had been alone, or older, I would have walked
away, but being with another male contemporary, we kinda egged each
other into going out.
It was very hard to get past the shoreward whitewater, which was
stacking up to head high. We both got through that, but behind it was
still turbulent, all mixed up, and relatively deep at maybe 8 feet or
so. I was touching bottom occasionally, so it wasn't real far down there.
But trying to get out further and go under the face, there was no way. I
kept trying and got a bit further out, but was in a constant fight just
to maintain orientation. I lost that, too, and struggled for my life,
essentially, for what seemed like two hours. Likely was about 10
minutes, maybe less.
The bay arced way around to the south, ending up at a rocky point. I
washed out of the whitewater down there, probably about 300-400 meters
from where I went in, with no clue as to ever moving south. I imagine I
sorta rolled up on the sand like a water logged piece of driftwood.
I had gone in with this big old floppy Voit Viking fin that I had found
on the beach years before. That was gone, and my trunks were almost gone
too.
My friend came down the beach and told me that he had never gotten past
the first wash, and was getting a bit worried.
We bought a half gallon of rose and drank it on the beach before going home.
--
--Sawfish
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"I wouldn't want to belong to a club that would accept someone like me
as a member." --G. Marx