Razz and I went driving down the coast looking for surf when we spotted this perfectly peeling wave at a place called Tunitas Creek. I'd been watching this spot for awhile, it often looks surfable when everything else is blown out, and this day it was taking set after set of perfect waves. I figured the main reason it's not surfed is that you have to climb down a steep hill to get to the beach. Well, that and the fact that surfline.com calls the place "Don't Eat Us Creek"....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We knew it was going to be big, there was a huge powerful swell in the water, Mavericks was taking 20 - 30 foot sets, and the Half Moon Bay buoy was at 17 feet @ 20+ seconds while the SF buoy was at 13 feet @ 22 seconds. (Quick note to non-surfers: the "22 seconds" part means it's a very thick, fast and powerful wave). But the thing about this swell (Wednesday December 17, 2003) is it was soooo clean, just perfect corduroy rolling in and peeling beautirfully. It was clean as a small swell, but amplified by at least 5. In that picture below you'd think the waves were 3 foot high, but they're probably more like 15. We figured we had a nice rip current for a paddle channel (just to the left of the below pic), and the paddle out wouldn't be so bad....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And we were right, it wasn't. Nice easy paddle, maybe 8 duck dives, and then we came to an outer bar before the clean waves breaking outside. The waves were breaking HARD on this bar, sucking out and bouncing up into the air. From up on the cliff, the view looked like just a little whitewater, easily dodged, but from sealevel and up close it's all 12 foot super thick walls of water falling like an elephant and rolling downhill fast, and the rip had deposited us right in the thick of it. We're probably about the size of a single pixel in this picture, no exageration, and the currents were pulling us in every direction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

To get an idea of scale, here's Scott's Creek on the same day, a few miles south. That little black dot at the bottom of the big face is a surfer.

 

 

 

And for more scale, here's some fantastic pics of Mavericks on the same day. The whitewater we were dealing with wasn't quite as big as in the bottom picture, but it was close.. These pics taken by Roy Toft and used with permission.

 

 

 

 

 

It became obvious pretty quickly that we should get the hell out of there, so I pointed to shore. My last image of Razz is of him nodding but not paddling, as if to say "well, obviously, but how the hell are you going to do that?" He pointed behind me, I turned and got ready to dive under an avalanche. It was impossible to paddle, since whenever we'd turn our backs there'd be another wave coming. I'd try to dive deep but still it would suck me back up and into the madness, batting my whole body left and right for longer than I'd ever experienced. I'd open my eyes and see nothing but total blackness, and I'd concentrate on keeping calm to suppress the oxygen-sucking adrenaline, and hallelujia I'd see a bit of light again and then BOOOOM another one would roll over. On one of my two-wave holddowns my leash got wrapped around both my neck and my feet and I remember thinking "nice touch". When I'd finally surface I'd be dizzy and choking, hacking up water, unable to catch my breath. Pulling in my surfboard, I'd take 2 strokes towards shore while looking over my shoulder and then the fun would start all over again and it'd be BAAAM and I'd get sucked over and in. They were absolutely huge, I'd say 10 feet of whitewater alone, and in desperation I'd try catching a sled-ride, lying on my board pointing towards shore, but on impact it would flip me end over end and side over side and for some reason I'd always inhale way more water than when I'd dive under.		I'd surface with a feeling like I had water in my brain, and I'd look at the big ritzy pink house built into the cliffs and realize it wasn't getting any closer. Then I started thinking that this was way beyond control, that it was only getting worse and I was going to die. And I'd dive deep in front of another one and no go, back into the darkness for another 2 wave holddown. I was getting weak, like I was going to pass out, and I absolutely couldn't catch my breath. Finally a smaller whitewater wave came my way, still much bigger than I'd even attempt to ride normally, but it was at least manageable. I built up as much speed as I could before it hit, then pushed my board forward and held on literally for dear life. It slammed into me and tried to flip me but then like magic I was out in front of the wave with my board skipping over the glassy water and heading to shore. The feeling of sand under my feet was unbelievable, I stepped onto the beach dizzy and lifeless like a shipwreck victim. But where the hell was Razz?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My contact lenses were long gone, so I ran up the hill to get the binoculars out of my van. The climb up was pretty hairy, hiking up a trench cut for a drainage pipe, with my surfboard over one shoulder and my other arm pulling on a rope that someone had strung along the pipe, banging my surfboard in ways I never would normally. I ran up the hill, no idea how I pulled that off, got to the top and there were two tourists taking pictures of each other with the ocean as a backdrop. What a different world. I dropped my board, grabbed the binoculars and scanned the breakers. A surfer pulled up and I told him the story, we scanned the horizon and still no sign of Razz. I called the Coast Guard rescue, they're just north in Half Moon Bay, I figured a boat could be here in 20 minutes. Maybe Razz had made it past the breakers and was swept around the point.... It was the absolute least and only thing I could do, since obviously a rescue paddle wasn't going to help. 415-556-2103 and they answered like 911: "Coast Guard, where's the emergency?" At this point Razz had been out there at least 15 minutes longer than me, and no way would I have made it another 15 minutes, just no way. So eventually I wasn't looking for a paddling surfer, I was looking for a floating body. I described the situation to the Coast Guard, they were getting a boat ready, and hallelujia man o man Razz stepped up on the shore, safe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here he is after changing out of his wetsuit. He had a pretty similar experience, 2 wave holddowns, finding his way to the surface only by climbing up his leash, taking gulps of water, absolutely convinced he was going to die. He said he got religious out there.