As far as I could see out to the horizon there were lined-up set waves. All those six to eight foot mush-burgers crumblers that were pushing us closer to the rocks were nothing but lull tasters. The real meat was much, much bigger, and I was about to find out just what I had gotten myself into. Putting my head down, I pressed my chest down hard on my board and stroked with everything I had, trying to B line it straight for the heart of destruction. Evidently I had the kooky idea in my head that I was actually going to make it under this entire set via duck diving. By the time I reached the impact zone of the first wave in the set I knew I was in trouble. The thing imploded about two heartbeats after I had punched through the bottom part of the face of the wave, and the force was so strong it took every last ounce of energy that I had left to kick and scratch my way to the surface. That left me creeping in the flats in between the next set wave, which looked twice as big and was obviously going to break way further out than the last one. I still attempted to punch under the white water instead of bail my board, hoping to find that little hole in the energy to pop up on the other side. Wrong. That wave took my board from my hardest, clutching grapple like Shaq would take a baby rattle from a newborn baby in a crib. Gone. Getting sucked over the falls backward is pretty much one of the things in surfing one tries to avoid at all costs. You are going to take the full brunt of its power and you are going to be sent to the deepest possible depth - and if you are surfing reef or rock bottom, that ain't good! That could mean a close encounter with one's own mortality. In addition, when getting thrown over the falls backward you can easily have your board hit you in the head. This unfriendly experience culminated with me getting tossed like a sack of discarded materials. As awful as it sounds, if you can live through it, the feeling can be quite cathartic. Luckily I had taken a deep breath, just in case my whole 'find that little hole' plan did not pan out.

I was glad, because after a thorough working, it picked me up and threw me over the falls for a second dose. I came up struggling for my board, disoriented, twisted in a million directions it seemed. I tried to body surf one in because it was painfully obvious that I was out-matched, and getting to the beach was a chore. Inside, I finally get to a place where I can ride white water on my chest all the way to the beach, and with my head hanging low, I struggled to my feet and without even looking over my shoulder, I took off my leash and speed walked the half mile back up the stairs and to our campsite. Without saying a word to anyone back at camp, I spent a few moments chilling by myself and putting myself in check at little bit. What was I thinking? I have been surfing big OB, and charging pretty hard, but this was such a bad call. I was not capable of surfing those waves at this point in my surfing career. Not enough experience and not the right equipment.

ER Harris