Editor’s note: Thanks to Charlie Teall for the photos of Neil and John at the slot.
Eric loved autumn because it’s the start of football season. In fact, his video “The Tsunami Rangers’ Greatest Hits” was modeled after the NFL’s Greatest Hits films. One of his favorite things about watching football was a segment called “Jacked Up!” in which you get to see the hardest hits of the day. After each slamming collision you hear a chorus of announcers: “He got jacked up!!!” So in the spirit of getting jacked up, I’d like to share the story of my worst kayaking crash to date.
Eric and I were out at Pillar Point. We paddled from the harbor to Ross’s Cove and I kept an eye on the slot at the point as we passed. If conditions seemed right, I wanted to paddle through the slot between the reef and the cliff and into the lagoon by the beach. In the past when I tried this maneuver, I had either run aground on the reef or flipped but I was determined to make it eventually.
For folks who don’t know, Pillar Point in Half Moon Bay (actually Princeton) California is where Maverick’s and the Big Wave Surf Contest are located. There is a reef protecting the beach but there is a slot right at the tip of the point between the cliff and the reef where a kayaker can paddle through when the tide is high enough. The waves break at the point and on the reef, but there is an opening at the slot because of the slightly deeper water.
On this particular day the sea was soft. The slot looked promising on the way to Ross’s but I chickened out. However, I surfed well at the cove and my confidence was up so on the way back I decided to go through. Eric coached me on the approach. “Surf right at the cliff,” he said. “Point your boat at the rocks, wait until the absolute last minute and then turn away. You’ll shoot right through!”
Small waves were spilling over the reef but nothing major was coming. I sprinted toward the point. Things were going great. A two-foot wave picked me up and I began to surf. I aimed the tip of my bow right at the rocks. But Eric’s idea of “right at the rocks” and mine were not the same. I was too far to the right, going over the reef where the waves break at odd angles. Just when I thought I had made it another wave rolled in from starboard. It broadsided me and I flipped. I don’t have a roll and I figured I’d just let the wave roll me up as it’d done before or else wash me into the lagoon. I relaxed and let the sea take me.
Unfortunately, wave number two pushed me at right angles to my original trajectory. Small but powerful, it took about two seconds to sweep me 20 feet and slam me face first into the cliff. I was caught between a rock and a hard wave. Dang. And I had failed to execute the Sinclair corkscrew maneuver. For a few seconds I was plastered against the rock. Then the wave released me. I rolled over onto my face, unbuckled my seat belt, and surfaced. I was jacked up…
I realized I was going into shock because I found I couldn’t swim. I dog paddled to keep my head above water. Waves tossed me about and I bumped along the rocks until I came to a cleft where I clung to a knob of rock. After a brief rest I hauled myself onto a shelf and lay there curled up assessing the damage. One good thing: my face wasn’t smashed because I was leaning so far back on the deck of my kayak that my torso hit first.
Meanwhile, Eric surfed easily through the slot and retrieved my paddle and kayak which had washed over the reef and into the lagoon. He left everything on the beach and then clambered around on the rocks to me. Moving hurt but the tide was rising so Eric coaxed me off the rock and into the water. Clutching my gut I half swam, half staggered to safety.
About a week later when I had sufficiently recovered, I went back to try it again. This time I was dead serious and super alert. I aimed my boat point blank and surfed right at those rocks. Just like Eric said I waited until what seemed like the absolute last second. I remember thinking it looked like my bow was about an inch away from crashing when I hit the rudder. I shot right through no problem.
Here’s what I learned from this incident: I listened to Eric but I didn’t actually do what he said. When Eric said surf at the cliff he meant it. He often reminded me that to miss an obstacle aim your boat at it and then pull away at the last minute. If you try not to hit something by aiming away from it, he said, inevitably you’ll crash right into it. It’s a weird thing about kayaking around obstacles.
Furthermore, I tuned out and failed to realize what was happening until it was too late. Partly this was complacency and partly an error in perception. In the back of my mind was the thought that it was a small day and this was going to be easy. Moreover as I approached the cliff the first time part of me was saying, “Yeah, surf right at the cliff. But surely he can’t mean that close!” But it wasn’t really that close at all. The first time I went through I was way off. The second time my perception was that I was inches away from crashing but in reality I had a decent cushion. Not doing exactly what Eric said the first time was my big mistake.
What was your worst crash ever? Did you learn a lesson? Share with us please!
Oh dear, where to start??
I was once surfing my ski at a cracking little right-hander near Manly’s “Bower” – it’s an interesting wave because it breaks over boulders and you get all sorts of weird wave formations. One of the fun aspects is that usually you can punch a nice long right down the face of the wave and then it shoots you into a stand-alone bowl a few hundred yards away from the initial break-zone, which means as I bear down the long right I can sometimes enter the bowl just as the wave reforms and jacks up, and get barreled in my surfski before shooting out to safety.
Anyway, one day I was surfing with a mate (he was in a white water boat) and he was surfing deep to the left, alongside a rocky-cliff line that marks the left end of the wave. He was getting smashed into the rocks a fair bit (admittedly we find that part quite fun!) and I was following him deeper and deeper into the pit until I finally realised I was TOO deep, and in really shallow water. Now with a plastic white water boat you dont care about rocks, but in a 19 foot fibreglass ocean surfski (which actually belongs to my wife!), rocks mean instant death for your boat (and worse for me when I get home).
So I’m surfing the right-hander with a wall of white water behind me when I look down to see less than a foot of water and a sea-bed of jagged rocks. I look up to try and shoot the right-hander but the wave breaks into the bowl dead ahead. Time slows down as I’m slowly engulfed by a huge wall of white water front, back and side and, desperate to save my wife’s ski, I ditch it and jump off into the froth.
Well, the ski gets shot about 30 feet ahead of me and slowly comes to rest on a little rocky outcrop (not even scratched!). Meanwhile I’m body-surfing the wave when I get surfed straight into a big, underwater rock that tears a hole straight through my winter wetsuit and deep into my knee-cap. Muttering a few choice expletives as only us Australian’s can, I slowly limp my way back to the surfski. Climbing aboard, and with blood streaming out of my gashed knee, we decide to leave the sharks to it and head for shore.
The moral of the story? A mere fleshwound is a tiny price to pay for the fun of surfing and playing in rocks! Cheers, FP
OMG, FP thank you so much for your great story! I was already laughing when I read your first line, “Oh dear…” and immediately settled down for what I knew was going to be a very entertaining read. And I was not disappointed. Interestingly your Manly “Bower” sounds similar to Pillar Point. The problem with surfing on a reef as you indicate is that suddently you look down and see less than a foot of water. Even if you can roll it’s not really an option.
Congratulations on surviving your crash and saving your boat. You got jacked up but at least you didn’t have to face your wife’s wrath. And thank you again for sharing your very hilarious story.
Awareness-that’s what it’s all about. That’s why I meditate-to expand my awareness. I have been drawn to surfing because it requires us to be super-conscious of the water around them, to be a part of that whole. Thank you Nancy for sharing this story and for keeping Eric’s spirit alive and sharing it. Joy to you! KP
I’m glad you brought that up about awareness, KP. I also meditate and it does expand one’s awareness. What I find interesting is that you’d think an expanded awareness would translate evenly over all one’s activities. In my case, that expansion should apply equally to yoga, downhill skiing, jujitsu, and sea kayaking. I know when I’m hiking with people I often see things like flowers or plants that others miss. But even though in theory it should be “all same thing” as my martial arts teacher Hung Le used to say I find that I still struggle to stay tuned in regardless of my activity. I guess I just need more practice. At everything! Glad you enjoyed the story, and thanks for commenting.
My worst and best.
The worst crash a had was in my Solstice down in Big Sur. I was trying to may a technical landing on a beach, screwed up royally and got window shaded up the beach and down into the surf a few times. I had whiplash and pretty much bruised and battered. My boat had had a couple of 4″ holes at the cockpit from where the surf had tried to fold it in half. Luckily I had tape around my water bottle, I dried the boat as well as I could, applied every last inch of the tape over the damaged sections. When I recovered enough to paddle back, I was thinking we ( the boat and I) just need to make it back to the put-in. The whole time the boat was creaking and groaning from the battering in the surf. Just as I got back to Monastery Beach the take came off and water was getting in. I recovered in a couple of weeks, while the boat was in the shop for extensive repairs and reinforcement.
The best was when I was surfing my Animas up at Davenport Landing. I was having a really great day surfing the smaller 4′-6′ inside reform zone. Outside there’s Vivians Reef where it was pretty huge. Nearing the end of our session, my companion suggested we catch a Big One from the outside and surf it across the reform zone and call it quits. OK, cool let’s do it. As I paddled outside during a long lull in the set, a huge wave reared up outside. I was too far away to break the “wave barrier” and too close to get away from it. It was huge, so I turned to shore and paddled like crazy trying to minimize the impact (right!). I got sucked up a 10′ wall, pitched forward the air off the lip and spend what felt like several minutes in a 5 axis window shading adventure. I managed to stay in the boat with my head and paddle tucked against the deck. I was worried that the run out was taking me into the cliff face. Eventually, the wave passed and I rolled up nearly at the beach. I felt like a football that had been kicked for a field goal. Apparently, several beach goers were watching my exploits as they came running up to ask if I was OK. I was fine, not a scratch or dislocation! Man was I lucky that day, I felt elated as I packed up and left.
And don’t you wish you had the picture! Rainer, thanks so much for your great story. Window shading – gotta love the terms we come up with to describe our kayaking experiences – so expressive! I enjoyed both your stories immensely. Thanks for sharing.
Reading these accounts reminded me of why I always avoided surf.
I hear you, June. The only reason I kayak surf (and the only reason I let Eric get me out in a kayak in the first place after seeing him and the Tsunami Rangers in action) is cuz I’m a good swimmer. There’s almost nothing worse than getting good and trashed in the surf. However, I also gotta say there’s almost nothing as exhilirating as a really good ride on a wave and that’s probably why I keep trying.
June, I can certainly understand your trepidation regarding surf.If you choose to, sometimes you pay to play. I have a face cage on my surf helmet for those occasions.
For me the fascination of kayaking is about learning to dance and play with the forces and energies of water. It is a meditation.
Learning to read what the energies are doing, and adjusting myself to join the energy, is a thrill, as is in getting on a huge wave and riding it. Sometimes it’s like a being a flea jumping on a moving freight train. Enjoy the illusion of control.
I found that launching off a beach using rip currents will shoot me out past the break line, with less effort. Conversely, trying to land or swim into a rip can be quite impossible.
It’s all about expanding consciousness, balance, and adventure.
Yes, Rainer, you described it very well. To be out there, coordinating with (rather than fighting) mother nature, with forces that could easily ruin your day, and to remain focused and calm, AND have fun with a good dose of exhilaration…this is the draw of surfing ocean swells. Nothing compares!
Tony
Ah, yes, the illusion of control. Rainer, you have a really good way of explaining why we kayak. Thanks.