dont surf to death,surf to live

Surviving windsurfing

It was a cold November day, but that never bothered us we were harden to the cold because whenever the wind was force four or above we would pack our windsurfing kit on the roof of our car and head off down to the bay. Before leaving we would do our final checks so as not to leave anything we need behind, so annoying when you leave a vital piece of equipment at home having to return can eat into the limited time we have.

Down at the bay the wind was blowing clean and strong. You could see the white horses galloping across their grey field relentlessly beating against the shore. We had to take care when assembling our equipment, if you careless the wind can take your sail and you will be retrieving a foil full of holes and torn to shreds, that can prove costly when a sail costs a weeks wages.

I chose my board carefully from my collection, this was the most suitable for waves and my favourite, it was like riding one of those rodeo horses but it always rewarded me well with a good time. Connecting the board to the mask and sail I was ready.

As I walked toward the shore getting into position to launch my small craft upon the ocean I looked out and could see into the distance a small triangle shape, it was my friend who I was shortly going to join.

I stepped onto the board, held the boom in and out as the wind filled the sail, hold on as the board floated upon the water, looking behind I was carving a groove into the sea which was quickly swallowed. The board, sail and I became one and working together making small adjustments we rode over wave after wave ever increasing in speed across the bay. As I headed out of the bay I could see in the distance a light flashing on top of the buoy which marked the entrance to the harbour, I used this as marker so as I would not drift off course and end up in a different bay.

Beyond the bay you could the chemical factory, the power station with her chimneys and the airport behind in the far distance. Further out of the bay the sea toss and turned the waves getting higher and further apart. Being about two miles out it was time to turn around and head back to the shore where I would repeat the same journey. As I lent into the turn I swung the sail around and was facing the coast, not quite a text book perfect gibe but I was heading back toward the coast.

With the beach fast approaching it was time to repeat the gibe process again and head back out to sea. The final run was upon me, last time today because the darkness of a late winter afternoon was coming and you don’t want to be packing up in the dark.

Crack! The board suddenly stopped. The sail lay limp in the water. My mast had snapped and I was stranded without the mast my sail was no good and without the sail I had no power. I sat there legs dangling either side of the board to keep my balance as the waves kept lifting the board up and down it was becoming a struggle to detach the mask foot from the board. Performing the task at hand that was paramount to my survival was impossible with gloves and quickly my fingers became frozen.

Managing to undo the clip that attached the mask foot to the board I was able to release the sail, all the time I was drifting out sea, away from the coast. The factory lights were getting dimmer and smaller, the fear which was building up inside was surfacing I started to wonder if I was going to step on dry land again or destine to see out my life at sea upon my crippled craft.

Then my spirits were lifted higher than the clouds above, a voice was calling my name and I looked behind for it was my friend, he had difficulty locating me among the rolling waves and the fading light. I was not alone with a few words my confidence was restored and my mind was back to the task of surviving this perilous situation I and now my friend were in. he took my sail and tied it to the back of his board and shouted “get paddling, I be back”. So I began my long crawl back to shore. Getting tired I feel the cramp biting the backs of my legs but it appeared that I had long way to go. Fighting through the pain I kept going and going, it was now dark and I was tired, hungry and miserable. I had to rest the shore looked miles away as the lights from land reflected off the water, so I lay there on the board looking up at the stars thinking maybe they be the last thing I see, then the a wave tip the board over and into the water I went. I realized I was only in four inches of water and crawled back to the car were a hot flash of coffee was waiting while my friend retrieved my board.

Don’t surf to feel death, surf to feel alive……..