Humility

It was a solid day of pumping surf at Manu bay. I was suiting up and debating whether to enter the line up from Jump Rock at the top of the point, or via the safety paddle from the inside. A brave crew of surfers had gathered waiting to charge the Jump Rock, but the tide was a little too high because the waves were slamming over the rocks, sending spray to the heavens. It looked sketchy, and a crowd of people had gathered to watch the mad dash, jump, and paddle. I've done that jump often, but in retrospect I was feeling a little over confident considering the less than ideal conditions, and maybe also the audience of hot girls injected me with fools courage and bravado! Anyway, let’s just say my judgment was suffering from ‘chronic’ maladjustment. My vision was 240/2-4-7.

I joined the waiting crew as they stood poised before a relentless bombardment of Raglan’s angriest. Suddenly, a local girl in the group bolted, skipping the 20 meters across the rocks and jumping onto the back of a smaller wave, perfectly timed and executed she snuck out through the sharks jaws. Everyone in the group was hooting, "GO GO GO, Fark, she’s got it! Bullshit!" And I was all dutch courage and adrenaline thinking; If a girl can do it what are you guys waiting for?! And I yelled out "Hell I’m goin!"

There was good reason the crew were waiting, the rocks were slippery and hard to negotiate. The gaps between the bigger sets were few and far between. Once on the rocks its complete isolation and there’s no turning back. Fully committed you’re racing against an on coming wave over sharp irregular reef towards a slippery jump rock, from which to launch yourself into the swirling maelstrom, or be cut down and suffer the beating of a lifetime!

So there I was, charging across the rocks timing it to leap onto the back of a smaller wave. As I ran, looking fixedly at the rocks to negotiate their slippery angles, I noticed the noise from the spectator crowd growing in volume, so I stole a glance at the oncoming wave, re-estimating it might require more of a jump up and over. Then looking down again super focused and what do I hear? Surely not? Alarmed shouting coming from the car park?! Another furtive glance at the approaching wall reveals a bionic jump might be more appropriate, oh hell... make that more of a leaping penetration into the pitching face!

At this point in proceedings the watching crew were wailing and howling, sending my adrenaline levels into hyper-drive, and that jump rock was looking further and further away, like in a horror movie pull focus when perspective becomes warped through the onset of sheer terror. Suddenly I was feeling real lonely as an awful realisation seeped into my mull clouded consciousness; I am now charging, Kamikaze styles, across sharp unforgiving reef into a stacked Raglan Bomb set. Oh my God! Maybe if I just crawl under one of these rocks!

The full hillside audience was roaring at this point, baying for blood, and everyones attention was fully focused on my grizzly predicament... It was ugly, carnage. I didn't make that jump rock. The final humiliation; I slipped and dropped my board and it was all over! Dude, I swear I had a moment of clarity lying there on my back and gazing up at the clouds. Have you ever had that experience when you know you’re completely fucked, I mean really truly and completely fucked and there is absolutely nothing that can be done about it? It was like, in that moment I accepted everything with absolute humility, not just the beating I was about to receive but everything, the absurdity of life and the whole cosmic paradox, and in that acceptance there was a moment of quiet, an instant of absolute peace...

The first wave picked me up and cart-wheeled me across the rocks. As it sucked back out l somehow managed to stand up, reclaim my board, and like a punch drunk dervish struggle back for round two... the next double overhead bomb with teeth was right there smiling at me and all I could do was this mad comic lunge into the face as it powered onto the rocks, collapsing over my head in an exploding avalanche of white water...

Miraculous as it may seem I surfaced exactly where I wanted to be, in the water in front of the rocks, no damage done to board or body, and I stroked out to the peak with a full standing ovation from the crowd! I have since been told that Raglan is strong with Tangaroa (the Maori God of the sea) and on that day I swear I saw him out the back.