when things get hairy

An angry 8ft lip came for my head today. I looked behind me, bailed my board, and dove underwater. As my body absorbed the explosion, I was transported back to Sayulita in the winter of 2020.

Before unpacking my bags, I grabbed my Airbnb host's 8'0 Odysea Log and paddled out without looking at the break. I took the first set wave left (the wave is a right) and ended up on the inside.

I surfaced to see a much bigger wave about to land on me. I panicked and bailed the board, losing most of my air as I fought the turbulence and tried to surface. I came up gasping in a sea of foam and discovered that only half of my board was with me.

I had been surfing for a year and never considered that my board could snap in half, let alone what I would do if that happened.

I was left feeling naked and afraid as I gulped water instead of air before getting pummeled by the next wave. I was now seriously thinking I would drown and started yelling ayuda, ayuda, ayuda.

Two locals looked at me in disgust and said nothing as if I deserved to die for being such a kook. Ayuda ayuda, I continued.

Finally, some kind soul acknowledged my troubles and signaled for me to paddle away from the rocks I was quickly moving toward. That gave me the knowledge I needed to get myself out of the impact zone and safely to shore.

As I walked toward the other half of my board, trembling from the situation caused by my stupidity, I looked around at the hundreds of people on the beach. They were just 100 meters from where I was just in a battle to live, and no one seemed to care or notice.

And surfing is almost always like that when things get hairy.

Fellow surfers may not be able or willing to help you. They may be in a battle of their own. And the beach loafers, well, they barely know you exist, let alone what it's like hanging with Mama Ocean.

In surfing, unlike a tennis match with your buddy, you can't hit the pause button and grab a drink of water when you need to regroup. You're in it when you paddle out, and you have to assume that it's on you (and only you) to navigate whatever is waiting for you.