EPIC????
Posted: Fri Apr 23, 2004 11:15 pm
So I'm sitting in front of my computer this morning faced with a rare dilemma......where do I sail. It's 11 AM, it's going off everywhere and it's only going to get better. My first thought was Esquimalt because I'm familiar with it and it was perfect 4.7 already. Then I thought I'd try somewhere different for a change. I was just about to go down to Cook St when Greg phoned from his place out at Gordon's and said it was epic and his new sauna was stoked for afterwards. Pretty inviting but a long way to go when it's windy everywhere in town. Nonetheless, I fuelled my behemoth and made the trek out to Sooke. It was cranking everywhere along the way. It was going to be an epic day!
We rigged up and headed down to the beach. I had a 4.8 and Greg a 4.7. Although it was only 25 knots at Sheringham, it looked and felt like a lot more. The shore break was quite large which was something I'm not that accustomed to. I gingerly laid my shiny new board on the beach and pondered my inevitable demise as I watched wave after wave crash onto the spot I was hoping to launch from. I guess my testosterone must have overriden my better judgement as I was soon standing in knee deep water hoping to squeeze through the monsters grasp unscathed.
I'm up and through the first breaker, over the next wave and then I look up and see the biggest wall of water I have ever seen
. I made it up the front but the back dropped off like the edge of the Grand Canyon. Since I wasn't yet in the straps and barely moving, I fell out of the sky like a wounded bird and landed butt first on the tail of my board. Ouch. Then it got ugly. That wave was the first in a series of huge waves that spent the next few minutes pummeling me and my gear. I was fighting the undertoe in a mere foot of water. I was helpless as I watched my virgin board getting the thrashing of it's life. I finally emerged and dragged my spent carcass up onto the beach where I knew sooner or later, I'd have to inspect the carnage. Expecting to find giant gaping holes and pebbles embedded into my board, I couldn't for the life of me find one scratch. Lucky bastard I said to myself.
At this point I was ready to call it a day. I was alive, and my gear unscathed. I'd say that qualifies as a good day. Once again, my better judgement got clouded by the fact that I spent $15 in gas to drive out there and dammit I was going to sail. So, in I went again. I guess I must have learned something from my first attempt because I was off and planing in no time. My euphoria was brief. I took a funny bounce off a wave and found my boom abruptly in my face. I still can't quite recall exactly how it happened. Nonetheless, I took the boom square in the eye, right below my trusty helmet. The impact knocked me off my board and dazed me briefly. When I came to my senses, I realized I had lost a contact lens in the process. Ever sailed with one eye in big waves? I took a scary ride back towards the shore once again pondering how I would handle the shore break. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if there was a smaller set I could ride in but everything was fuzzy. Before I knew it, I was upside down, sans gear, getting re-introduced to the bottom of the ocean. Once again, I dragged my sorry ass out of the water and once again, I was a lucky bastard. Not a scratch. Gotta love DRAM.
After a good long break, I decided that I could in fact sail with just one eye. I think the bump on the head was starting to set in now. I cranked on some more downhaul to make up for the fact that I couldn't see and proceeded to head back to the water. SNAP........the turban strap on my sail broke. I got the message loud and clear - GO HOME NOW. I must admit I was relieved that I now had an excuse to remove myself from further punishment.
I quickly de-rigged and headed for home. I figured that since it was only 2:00, I still had time to salvage my day. I ran home, popped in a new contact, (which I will be keeping in the van from now on), grabbed the only other sail I had and headed to Esquimalt as it's never "insane" down there.............. except today. I was there by 3:15 PM and it was absolutely nuking - 30-35 knots. I had never seen that much wind there before. It was insane. There was only one other person out and he was crankin' on a 4.1. I had a 5.2. You do the math.
Still desperate to get my fix I decided I could hold onto a 5.2 in a 35 knot gust and proceeded to rig it up. On my first run out I hit a nice ramp and upon landing, blew the bottom panel out of my sail with my knee. I landed the jump, just bent my knees too much I guess. The blown panel turned out to be a nice pressure relief vent in my sail. I think I'll leave it there.
Despite the fact that my arms got the workout of a lifetime, I actually had an OK session. The wind eventually dropped to a manageable level..... sort of, and I finally packed it in at about 6:00.
As I sit here writing this epilogue, I am wondering, how does one classify a day such as this. I got physically abused, I broke a sail and punctured another, I burned $15 in gas chasing the wind and I'll be sore for days. Oddly enough, I've still got a big grin on my face.
We rigged up and headed down to the beach. I had a 4.8 and Greg a 4.7. Although it was only 25 knots at Sheringham, it looked and felt like a lot more. The shore break was quite large which was something I'm not that accustomed to. I gingerly laid my shiny new board on the beach and pondered my inevitable demise as I watched wave after wave crash onto the spot I was hoping to launch from. I guess my testosterone must have overriden my better judgement as I was soon standing in knee deep water hoping to squeeze through the monsters grasp unscathed.
I'm up and through the first breaker, over the next wave and then I look up and see the biggest wall of water I have ever seen
. I made it up the front but the back dropped off like the edge of the Grand Canyon. Since I wasn't yet in the straps and barely moving, I fell out of the sky like a wounded bird and landed butt first on the tail of my board. Ouch. Then it got ugly. That wave was the first in a series of huge waves that spent the next few minutes pummeling me and my gear. I was fighting the undertoe in a mere foot of water. I was helpless as I watched my virgin board getting the thrashing of it's life. I finally emerged and dragged my spent carcass up onto the beach where I knew sooner or later, I'd have to inspect the carnage. Expecting to find giant gaping holes and pebbles embedded into my board, I couldn't for the life of me find one scratch. Lucky bastard I said to myself. At this point I was ready to call it a day. I was alive, and my gear unscathed. I'd say that qualifies as a good day. Once again, my better judgement got clouded by the fact that I spent $15 in gas to drive out there and dammit I was going to sail. So, in I went again. I guess I must have learned something from my first attempt because I was off and planing in no time. My euphoria was brief. I took a funny bounce off a wave and found my boom abruptly in my face. I still can't quite recall exactly how it happened. Nonetheless, I took the boom square in the eye, right below my trusty helmet. The impact knocked me off my board and dazed me briefly. When I came to my senses, I realized I had lost a contact lens in the process. Ever sailed with one eye in big waves? I took a scary ride back towards the shore once again pondering how I would handle the shore break. I kept looking over my shoulder to see if there was a smaller set I could ride in but everything was fuzzy. Before I knew it, I was upside down, sans gear, getting re-introduced to the bottom of the ocean. Once again, I dragged my sorry ass out of the water and once again, I was a lucky bastard. Not a scratch. Gotta love DRAM.
After a good long break, I decided that I could in fact sail with just one eye. I think the bump on the head was starting to set in now. I cranked on some more downhaul to make up for the fact that I couldn't see and proceeded to head back to the water. SNAP........the turban strap on my sail broke. I got the message loud and clear - GO HOME NOW. I must admit I was relieved that I now had an excuse to remove myself from further punishment.
I quickly de-rigged and headed for home. I figured that since it was only 2:00, I still had time to salvage my day. I ran home, popped in a new contact, (which I will be keeping in the van from now on), grabbed the only other sail I had and headed to Esquimalt as it's never "insane" down there.............. except today. I was there by 3:15 PM and it was absolutely nuking - 30-35 knots. I had never seen that much wind there before. It was insane. There was only one other person out and he was crankin' on a 4.1. I had a 5.2. You do the math.
Still desperate to get my fix I decided I could hold onto a 5.2 in a 35 knot gust and proceeded to rig it up. On my first run out I hit a nice ramp and upon landing, blew the bottom panel out of my sail with my knee. I landed the jump, just bent my knees too much I guess. The blown panel turned out to be a nice pressure relief vent in my sail. I think I'll leave it there.
Despite the fact that my arms got the workout of a lifetime, I actually had an OK session. The wind eventually dropped to a manageable level..... sort of, and I finally packed it in at about 6:00.
As I sit here writing this epilogue, I am wondering, how does one classify a day such as this. I got physically abused, I broke a sail and punctured another, I burned $15 in gas chasing the wind and I'll be sore for days. Oddly enough, I've still got a big grin on my face.
w247 You may be the 'Jimmy lewis' of windsurfing!!