Reliving the Wake: The Story of My Surfing Scare

Since I've been in Balian, I've been having strange dreams. For the past few nights, I find myself dreaming about terrorist attacks of all things... all attacks being directed at me. They start with tranquility, then I hear gun shots as people are being killed in other rooms... then I hear them coming... to hunt me down. I run, I plead... and each time, I manage to escape. But, nonetheless, I awake in the morning feeling less than rested. They say Balian is a spiritual place, perhaps this helps to explain it.

In tandem with these dreams, I've been experiencing pretty intense anxiety associated with learning to surf. Odd, considering it was one of the main reasons I wanted to go on this adventure. I've been excited about it for so long too. But for some reason, something in me has made me feel really cautious this time around. Perhaps it's related to my past attempts at surfing… being bashed around in the waves and by the board, no instruction, a lot of pain, too much salt water, and a big scar down my leg which I think has only vanished a couple months ago. To this point I have been quite unsuccessful, yet I've always felt a draw to the ocean, to the past time... to the culture... and thus have kept trying. This time, however, has also brought its scars.

My first day of surfing was great. A short intro to the technique, some time in the white wash. I felt slightly calmer by the end of the day. The second day, I calmed down a bit more as we got a bit more aggressive in the white wash. But I had to stop abruptly after a substantial cut on the front of my shin. I ended up talking with my instructor for a while about the anxiety I'd been feeling.. about drowning.. rip tides, etc. I woke up the next morning, that was the day we were going to go past the break, and felt incredibly nervous... like unusually so. And oddly enough, almost like a premonition, I did, in fact, almost drown that day. 

We went out mid morning after a delicious breakfast of fruit with oatmeal, a shake... a coffee. We arrived at the beach, boards in hand, did a few stretches and approached the sea. Standing before a wall of waves well above the head of my two surf mates crashing against the shore, I watched them enter the ocean with confidence and jump on their boards to start paddling through. Fear tapping me on both shoulders calling me to hold back, I shrugged it away and with determination entered the water and started paddling as well. I made it out no worries and found myself floating among the waves with the community of other surfers in no time. After enough observation I eventually tried to start riding a couple waves... got partly up the first time... and bashed around a couple others. I started to realize, it wasn't that bad. That was until however, my strap broke.

It was an unintended wave that brought me down... I was awaiting one in the distance when it came, with an unforeseen power it came out of nowhere. Last minute noticing it, I started to paddle in hopes I could maybe catch it.. but I was too late... the wave swallowed me before I could catch enough speed and pushed me under... as I sank, I felt a snap and my leg felt lose... I emerged to the surface and saw my board already half way to shore. I had lost my board. I emerged in the white wash feeling… small. Out of breath. Turning my head, I looked behind me to see another massive wave right behind me, before I could get enough air I was pushed under again... under and trying to come up for air but the water just kept coming. I kept thinking... I've got to be able to come up soon... swim to the surface… the surface wasn’t coming… “hold on, it’s almost over”… I thought… surface wasn’t coming… “Uh oh, I’m actually starting to run out of air… I need to breath…  swim up… swim up… don’t panic, don’t…” and I emerged from underneath. Gasping for air, I looked around. Still surrounding it white wash I looked to the shore it was quite far and I felt I couldn’t swim until I caught my breath. I could feel the water changing. I turned around and a bigger one was coming. I hadn’t caught my breath yet but had no choice. Exhale exhale… and the wave hit again. “Don’t panic… don’t panic” I kept telling myself while under the water “you’ll be able to breath soon” but the wave kept pushing my under… “It’s almost over”… and I emerged again. This time, really gasping for air… I turned again to see yet another big wave coming… “I haven’t caught enough breath yet… I can’t….” and the wave hit me again. Bursting for air I was pushed under… this wave felt longer than the others… “Don’t panic… “ I reminded myself again “When you submerge swim out of the white wash” I told myself… “I’m not going to be able to survive if I stay here” I thought. Desperate for air, I finally emerged and started swimming as hard as I could to the side of the waves… I started to breath a bit better again.

It was at this point more panic was starting to set in… the reality that I was far out… that I was starting to get tired… that more waves were still coming and I was still panting. I started thinking, “wow, could this really be it?… I never thought this could happen to me.” Never thought this could happen to me… Really? I suppose with many things, you do them knowing the risk but in blind faith that you’ll come out alive you ignore the risk. Here I was, however, thinking and seeing my “end.” I was autonomously panicking and actively trying to convince myself otherwise. One side of my brain trying to use logic to calm down the other panicking side. It was almost as though I was being victimized as the two sides were arguing it out.

Another wave hit, under I went. “I never wanted to go this way” I was thinking. “How could it be now? I’m on this amazing vacation… and this shouldn’t be happening… not now… not over something so silly… I have to be able to make it out of this” I was scared, but optimistic. “I just have to swim, breath when I can, and get out of these waves” I decided.

So I swam… and swam… it felt like every stroke took me a fraction of an inch and a ton of energy. I tried to calm myself. Breath. I kept swimming… I have to make it to shore soon. One of my surfing mates came swimming up and I told her I lost my board. She kept swimming. She didn’t know what to do… geez, neither did I other than to try and swim to shore will being able to maintain my breath. I kept swimming.

Trying to stay calm, assuring myself it would take time to get to shore, I realized I was not only going nowhere but also being pulled out. I was, in fact, caught in a rip tide. As I realized, the panic emerged again… accompanied with fear. I’d entered another zone with waves again and was being pushed under… again… again… “Need to breath.. need to breath… can’t breath” I kept thinking every time I got pushed up and under…

I was pushed out into a calmer spot for a bit, another surfer was paddling by… she swam up and said “Are you ok?” …I told her I needed help. She said “Don’t worry… he’s coming in to get you” I looked to the shore and there was a man, a friend I’d might earlier in my stay, holding the boarding… battling the waves to come out to get me. Panic… started to calm.

I kept trying to swim… kept trying to find the perpendicular route out of the rip… so that I could get out… but remained swimming nowhere. But I could see him getting closer and closer. He eventually arrived… and told me to get on the board and that we would both paddle ourselves in on the board. But I was exhausted and could barely hold on. We tried starting to paddle and I had to stop… he paddled the both of us, then a wave started coming up behind us. We both knew the wave wouldn’t be able to carry us both. He said, you go on the board… he slid off the back and pushed me through the wave… I started to get through but the barrel of the wave took over and ripped the board from my hands. I was again left floating without a board and so was he. “Swim” he said, and showed me the direction. I tried to follow… another wave hit. Under again. So out of breath. Losing control. Pop-up. Keep swimming. Swim. I felt my toe touch the bottom… I felt a rush of relief as I went to try and stand... but another wave tossed me over… “I just need to get in” ….”Let me out!!” I was thinking. Swim. Swim. Try to stand. It’s deeper here, I can’t stand. Swim. He called over “Swim this way!” I tried… I kept swimming… but the current was getting stronger and pulling me out again. I started swimming more sideways… “Can you touch?” he yelled… and I could now, but the current was too strong from me to get a grip. He reached out his hand… “Grab my hand” he said… almost double my height, he was able to stand without troubles and was far enough over that he wasn’t caught in the rip. I swam… reaching out my hand… swam hard… and grasp! Was able to grab his hand. He pulled me in… I felt one foot be able to touch the bottom… kept pulling me… two feet, touching the bottom… pulling me… Ok, able to start walking… walk… walk… water getting shallower… Exhale. I’m on the shore. Shooken up. I was safe.

I watched him walk down and grab the board while I stood there panting, speechless, numb. I couldn’t believe what just happened. I couldn’t believe I was on land. I was… caught somewhere in between and terrified.

He came back and I walked with him… almost forgetting or in temporarily in denial of everything that just happened I thanked him… and asked him if he’d had a good surf that day.  He laughed, most likely because asking that question must have felt so absurd given what had just happened. It was absurd. I was so out of it.

I went and got my sandals and sat with him after. He ordered a lunch on the beach while I drank fresh fruit juice and we talked. Talked about everything that had just happened. Other times that has happened to surfers. It’s almost a blur really. The shock had set in and lasted most of the day. I had a good cry eventually after I left the beach bar. I still couldn’t believe that almost happened, and that it almost happened to me… me!?

I ended up having to have a nap midday and slept most of the afternoon.  The rest of the day was a right off… and the last couple days I haven’t touched a surfboard. Yesterday I started again, but in the white wash. It was tough at the start and it felt like work, but eventually I started catching a few waves again… and started to get a bit more excited again. That being said, however, surfer talks last night revealed there are both sharks and barracudas (a lot of them) in these waters… and people have been attacked. Ugh. Maybe there are just too many factors holding me back from ever really becoming a surfer.

When I reflect on the experience, I gained some interesting insight. First, the whole notion of “this isn’t supposed to happen to me” surprised me. Logically speaking it didn’t make sense to feel that way. Death happens to all of us, accidents happen to all of us… so why should I be surprised. But also, I experienced a sensation almost like “I’d been picked”?! I suppose prior I felt like I “blended in” or “was hiding” and then got a sense of “how did it find me?” I guess the “it” was death in this case. Odd.

Second, I became a little more cognizant of death. As I went through that experience, death was there right beside me… ready to take my hand if it was time. I wasn’t ready, and I wasn’t going to give up, but I had never really realized before how close it really is. Thinking about it now, it’s almost as though life is just a constant battle to avoid death… but sooner or later it will win.

Third, I found the parallels with my dreams unnerving. I felt like the terrorists I’d been running from were a metaphor for this experience… they were the waves trying to close me in… and death was hunting me. Much like I could feel the terrorists catching up to me, looking them in the eye and hoping they wouldn’t make their final move, I felt like I was battling that similar battle but within the waves. Death was the “terrorist” and life was the constant chase trying to escape it. In cases like this, however, sometimes it catches up… and I found myself negotiating with it.

I’m going to try surfing again today, but going to take it slow. It’s a battle with fear more than anything. So, we’ll see what happens. In the meantime, I’ve gained a lot of insight from this whole experience… thus far.