Surf's Up
Jocelyn Weiss

in issue eight
Scintillations
Surf’s Up
A Right to the Left
Hooray Soleil
The Power of Letting Go
Fuzzy Alien Antennae
Storms and Silence
Incredible Shrinking Woman
Apologizing to Mandy
Sex in the Outback
Dream Interpretation
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Younger Self

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It starts out as a fun day.  Sunshine and big waves – a great day to go boogie boarding. 

In the four or so years that Damon and I have been together we've shared a lot of water-sport experiences.  We've done loads of snorkeling and last year I finally convinced him to get SCUBA certified.  Ever since, we've been diving as often as we can afford to.  And when we can't dive, we just play in the Northern Californian surf.  But, we've never tried boogie boarding.

Yesterday was the calm before the storm.  There had been no waves.  And in boogie boarding, no waves equals no fun.  But after last night's storm...now these are waves!

The surf is roaring in from both the northwest and the southwest, creating a triangle of waves.  And the waves are coming in fast and furious, every 4-5 seconds, one right behind the other.

We're both strong swimmers, but we don't really know how to boogie board, so we start out near the shore, catching a few waves, crashing into the beach, getting battered about by the surf.  We play at this for a while, laughing and screaming. It's really fun.

Damon, always seeking more excitement, goes out further and further from the beach.  Each time, he catches a wave that brings him crashing back to shore. 

It looks like fun and I want to follow him.  That's the usual pattern of our adventures.  I watch Damon push the limit and then, when I see it's safe, my fear subsides and I jump in after him. 

But this time I can't seem to get past the strong waves near shore.  As soon as I get to where I can't touch the bottom, the waves push me back to the beach.

As Damon goes out deeper and deeper, I can no longer see him over the waves.  Alone near the shore, I get bored.  It's only fun when I have someone to laugh with me. 

Then I start to get annoyed.  What if something happens to me?  I depend on Damon to be there when my adventurous side takes over, so he can help me if I get in over my head.  And now he can’t even see me.

Wondering how much longer I have to play by myself I go back up the beach to check the time.  My body feels heavy.  All that boogie boarding has taken its toll and the weight of my soaking wetsuit makes the climb up the beach exhausting. 

It's about 2pm when I finally lug myself up to our bag.  We still have a couple of hours before we need to return the gear. 

I scan the shoreline for Damon, but I can’t see him.  I am starting to get nervous when I finally spot him way out there, just where the waves are forming.  I wonder if I should try to join him.  I'm intimidated by the strong surf and I'm not sure how I'll have the strength to get past the waves.  But he looks like he's having so much fun.

I see him in the distance waving excitedly and I wave back.  The pull to join him in the deep water is strong. 

As I stand on the shore I spy another boogie boarder on the beach and watch to see what he does. Lying on his board, he pushes straight out to where the big waves are forming, just a bit down the beach from where Damon is. 

Somehow that gives me courage.  I screw up my nerve and push out.  I copy the moves of the other boogie boarder and am surprised at how easily I get through the waves.  I am proud of myself for overcoming my fear and look forward to joining Damon in the deeper surf.

As I approach him I hear him scream “Shark!” and I assume that, as usual, he's goofing around, pretending to be scared and mocking my irrational fear of shark attack.  I smile.

Then he screams “Help me, somebody help me”! 

For the first time I hear panic in his voice and with a wrench in my gut I realize he isn’t joking.  I yell at him to tell me what's wrong, half terrified that a shark has really attacked him. 

He has not been attacked, but he is in an equally terrifying predicament.  He is stuck in the deep water.  He’s been trying to get back to the beach but the surge keeps pushing him back out. He's been waving and screaming for help, but nobody can hear him.

And now I'm stuck with him.

He is completely exhausted.  He is having a hard time holding on to his board.  The surf is battering him, knocking him off his board and tossing him about under water. 

I've never seen him this scared.  I don’t want to believe that we can't get back to shore.  I mean, surely the waves will bring us back in to the beach.  I start paddling with my arms and make a little progress. I tell him to try to paddle, but he doesn’t have the strength.  I try to drag him with me but he can’t hold on.  Finally I decide to leave him behind and try to make it to shore to get help.

I start paddling again.  I make a little progress.  Then, a huge wave crashes on top of me, throwing me off my board, turning me upside down under the wave.  Disoriented and out of breath I struggle to the surface.  Just as I right myself and catch my breath another wave crashes on me and again I am thrown from my board and tossed around under water.

I'm scared.  I'm losing strength.  I can't catch my breath and my arms feel like lead. And for all my effort I'm not getting any nearer to shore.  Damon is right, we're stuck and we can’t get back to the beach.

Wave after wave crashes, time and again I am thrown from my board and tossed about in the waves.  I am exhausted. I'm having a really hard time staying on my board.  I'm swallowing loads of seawater.  I think I've lost a contact lens. The salt water stings my eyes and further blurs my vision.

Damon can barely keep his head up, it keeps bobbing down until his nose touches his board. It looks like he's going to pass out.  He won't last much longer in this surf.

I can feel the panic rising in me. I hadn’t heard Damon’s screams for help when I was on shore, so why would anyone hear our screams now?  But I don’t know what else to do.  I start screaming for someone to help us. 

I'm chiding myself for not having more respect for the strong Northern Californian currents and thinking that this is a stupid way to die, when our salvation appears.

It comes in the form of a strong young man who easily paddles up on his surfboard, smiling. He's so calm and confident. He tells us not to worry, that we are stuck in a cross current, but that he can help us get back to the beach.

He gives Damon his surfboard and secures the ankle strap, assuring us that the surfboard is more buoyant than the smaller boogie board.  Then, he hops onto Damon's boogie board and shows me how to hold on so I can stay above water when a wave hits.  He tells us to kick into the waves and assures us that a big wave will carry us back to shore.  I only half believe him.

A huge wave comes.  I hold on tightly to my boogie board and struggle to stay afloat.  When it's passed, Damon is nowhere in sight.  Has he fallen off the surfboard? Is he drowning beneath me?  I panic, searching frantically for sight of him or the surfboard.  With my guard down, the next wave throws me from my board.  I struggle to get back to the surface.

Panting for breath, I heave myself up on my board to continue my search for Damon.  Then, as the surf ebbs, I see him. Those two waves took him back to the beach.  He is safe.

The surfer, my savior, assures me that a few more waves will take me there too and then I’ll be OK.  His confident presence calms my panic.  We joke about how this is supposed to be fun.

With my last bit of strength I kick frantically.  I catch a huge wave and, holding tightly to the sides of my board, I feel a rush as I ride it all the way back to shore. If I weren't so exhausted and terrified, that 30-second ride would have been a blast.

When I can stand, I grab my board and run to the beach.  Damon is sitting in the sand with his head between his knees, surrounded by people.  He's disoriented and on the verge of passing out. 

I am tired, but thrilled to be back on land.  I go into a "take charge" mode.  Damon still needs my help.  He can't seem to understand what people are saying to him and he doesn't have the strength to stand up.

With the help of those around me, I get Damon to lie down with his knees propped up on his boogie board.  After a while he starts to regain his strength.

We express our gratitude to everyone: the woman who heard my screams and alerted the surfer, the man who called the Coast Guard on his cell phone and then cancelled the helicopter air lift once we'd gotten safely to shore, and especially our surfer-savior.  The crowd disperses and Damon and I slowly gather up our gear and, stopping every few minutes to rest, make the hike back to the car. 

While changing out of our wetsuits and into dry clothes, the full impact of the experience hits me.  We could have died out there in that surf. I reach for Damon and we hold each other tightly, neither saying anything about how close we came to losing one other.

Just holding him is calming.

Over dinner we talk about the experience.  He tells me what a rush it was when that huge wave carried him into shore.  I tell him I had the same feeling on the boogie board.

Hmm…perhaps surfing lessons are in our future.

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