Jack clawed up the face of a wave taller than his house. Glancing down-the-line he saw the top pitch out into a perfect tube. When the lip hit bottom, it roared toward him like a freight train. His heart pounded and his breath came in ragged bursts. He shivered and it had nothing to do with the fifty-eight-degree water.
As he slid down the back side, he heard clucking sounds. His brother, Steve, sat twenty yards to the north on his new big wave board. "You wus." Under a receding hairline, his blue eyes stared. "You should've caught that one."
"You gotta be kidding, it was eighteen feet tall."
Steve laughed. "Real surfers measure the backs. That couldn't have been more than eight feet." He paddled for a wave and disappeared.
"I don't fall off the back," Jack mumbled to himself.
As the next wave rolled under him, he looked toward the Southern California shoreline. He couldn't see land or any of the Imperial Beach apartment buildings. Nothing but mountainous walls of water rolling east under a leaden sky. What the hell was he doing out here? If his leash broke, he'd have to swim the half mile to shore.
He heard a shout and looked south toward Mexico. Steve paddled back in from the channel cut by the Tijuana River. He looked younger than thirty-eight because his constant surfing kept him in shape.
His older brother never stopped pushing him. Jack wished his bro' had stayed in Hawaii. Then he wouldn't be stuck out here remembering his sleepy-eyed six-year-old's advice. "Be careful, Daddy, and have lotsa fun."
Steve stopped paddling and sat facing the swells. "Great wave! I carved that sucker up." He paused. "You catch anything yet?"
"No." Jack rapped his board with his knuckles. "Not sure my little board can handle this size surf."
"You really ought to get a board like mine." Another swell came by, and Steve was gone.
"No, I ought to get my head examined." A smaller wave rolled in and Jack paddled for it. As the swell picked him up, he stared straight down twelve feet of face. The offshore wind blinded him with spray. His heart raced. Through bleary eyes it looked too steep. He dug in his legs and pulled out the back.
"It'll close out." The wave peeled off in perfect form. Jack smacked the water. Anger and shame burned on his cheeks. He'd never backed down from a challenge before. Challenge? Was his brother manipulating him?
He slapped the water again, making his palm sting. His knees felt weak. He had to catch one, for himself. As the next wave approached, he pushed fear aside and stroked for all he was worth. Even though it felt like he'd get tossed out with the lip, he missed the wave. "Damn!" His frustration only increased when he realized he also felt relief.
"Jack!" Steve yelled as he paddled back out. "On that little board, you'll need to wait till the wave gets completely vertical."
"I know, I know, take a late drop." He shuddered.
The next wave he started paddling early. He'd catch it, or it'd catch him.
Glancing back, the swell loomed, blotting out half the sky. The world became unnaturally clear. Bright white foam swirled on murky green water. The wave sucked him up to the crest and he stared fifteen feet down the face. Committed, he paddled harder.
The board broke free and shot for the bottom of the wave. As he dropped, he snapped to his feet. Gripping the board with his toes, he fought to stay in control. The bottom rushed up at him and he started a turn back up onto the face. The board felt more like a water ski than a surfboard. He banked off the top and dropped back down the face, picking up even more speed. When he made the next turn at the bottom, he lost control. He shot straight up the wall of water, blasting out the top of the wave and into the air.
He kicked his board away and it spiraled out until the leash jerked on his ankle. The swell rolled out from under him. As he fell, he glimpsed the next set. His heart constricted. The image of the giant wave burned into his mind.
He hit the water feet first and plunged deep. He checked his descent by spreading his arms and legs, then stroked for the surface. Kicking with his right leg, he pulled his board to him. He slid onto it and began paddling. "Steve, outside set! It's breaking a hundred yards out." He stroked hard for the channel.
His arms felt like lead, but he kept them moving. As he topped the next swell, he quit paddling. Nowhere to go. His heart raced and blood roared in his ears. The wave stretched out for a hundred yards, a twenty-foot wall of white-water churned toward him. As he pumped air in and out of his lungs, he grew lightheaded. He'd never been in front of a wave this big before, and he knew he'd need all the oxygen he could pack away. One of his brothers' favorite sayings popped into his head. Everybody must pay their dues.
As the wave loomed, he bailed off and dove for the bottom. He stroked down, trying to get beneath the churning water. The board's leash tugged on his ankle and then yanked him through the water like a fishing lure. An invisible hand grabbed him and shoved him up, then slammed him down. He cartwheeled through water so filled with air that all attempts at swimming failed.
He covered his head with one arm and fought to stop the tumbling with the other. He felt like an ant in a washing machine. The leash stretched taut across his arm and neck, threatening to choke him, then went slack.
His lungs screamed for air. He must have been under more than a minute. The turbulence started to die. He struggled for the surface, but it felt as if a magnet held him down. He ignored his burning chest and quit moving. Don't fight it. Save the energy.
Jack exhaled a little to take some strain off his aching lungs. Finally, he felt the water's grip loosen and he kicked toward air.
He burst above the surface and gulped a breath before falling back in. Yanking his leash, he pulled his board to him. He dragged himself onto it and began working his diaphragm like a bellows. Dizzy, he looked for the next breaker. Another wall of white-water rolled toward him. He kept hyperventilating until a moment before the wave hit. He rolled off the board and swam down. After the third wave stars swam in his vision. This could be it. The idea didn't scare him as much as the way he calmly accepted it.
By the sixth wave he'd been pushed in to where the waves were smaller. As he filled his lungs, he began to have hope that he'd get to see his wife and daughter again.
When he came up after the ninth wave in the set, Jack saw his opening. He paddled for the wave free channel, as fast as his leaden arms would allow.
Steve sat in the channel. "You really ought to stay in shape."
Exhausted, Jack lay on his board. "I didn't think I'd make it."
"Yeah, a gnarly set." His voice sounded curt.
Maybe he didn't understand. "Hey, I almost died."
Steve met his gaze with a flat cold expression. "We're wasting waves."
Jack's body went numb. As he looked at Steve, he felt like he really saw him for the first time. This was the big brother he'd always looked up to. "Are you for real? I said I almost died."
"You really are a wus."
The words tore through him. Brothers were supposed to care about each other.
"You finally get waves like I surf in Hawaii and you're going to chicken out?" He shook his head with a disgusted expression.
Jack turned to look at his brother. Steve judged everyone by his standards. "Do I have to die to impress you?"
Steve's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. He angrily spun his board and started paddling out. "Coming, little brother?"
Jack felt the words hit home. He wanted to scream at Steve that he wasn't a kid anymore. He knew he'd won the war of words, but Steve would never admit it. Jack started paddling, but he didn't follow his brother. He headed out of the channel and back into the surf. He kept going until an eight-foot shoulder came along. He caught it and rode it to shore.
He staggered up the beach and onto a sand dune. Turning, he looked out to sea. From the beach, he could only see the closer head high waves with nobody surfing them. He slid down the dune and slowly started the long walk back to Imperial Beach and his car. It was great to be alive. He couldn't wait to hug his daughter.
He'd remember this day forever. He would never see his brother the same way again. Jack had faced his fears today and come away knowing his own strengths. In his mind's eye he could see Steve catching a monster wave. He hoped that someday, Steve would learn that a man is measured by more than the size of the waves he rides.
The above story is based on a real life experience. No surfers were injured in the creating of this story.
