Friday, January 20, 2006

Letting Rip

A couple of weekends ago I was enjoying a salty sea dip with some good friends down at Airey's Inlet. The weather was hot, the sea was unusually choppy and I was happy to let the gigantic waves break across my back and be lifted off my feet and carried towards the shore by the powerful surf. At one point my friend's young daughter and myself were swimming close by when a wave reared up and dumped on us, when I came up I saw her swimming but looking scared, then I suddenly realised I couldn't feel the sand underneath me and we were in a rip that was taking us further out to sea. I panicked and swam towards her as did another guy who saw what was happening. The waves kept swelling and crashing around us as I reached out and grabbed her arm trying to drag her back to shore. He calmly told me not to panic and when I saw that her dad was heading towards us with a surfboard I relaxed somewhat. On the other hand I quickly came to the sudden realisation that I was a shit swimmer and had to get my own sorry arse into shore. I did eventually, out of breath and shaking from the adrenalin.
Old man Poseidon couldn't have me that day - feck 'em.

Image care of Heritage Comics

1 comment:

Phil said...

I've been there. But no one could hear my anguished cries for help as I battled the current with my finely-toned physique. I don't think that lonesome brush with death has had much of impact on me though, apart from the nightmares, and my sudden panic near bodies of water.