Surfing, Dying, and Living. In LBI

LBI

Long Beach Island is just a place apart. We make day trips to the shore, and the sands of familiar beaches like Belmar and Avon grace our bare feet all too frequently. But shore towns like those just dont match the distant, slow paced and exciting world apart that is Long Beach Island, New Jersey. I'm so thankful for Sami, and the Saunders family for having us over every year. Its my only real vacation. I love it. Its such an escape from everything back in Manalapan, don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those "Oh I hate Manalapan, the people suck and everyone sucks and the world sucks and vaccumes suck...etc. etc. I can wait to get the eff out of this town!" people. I happen to like Manalapan, however, in the words of the great Tanqueray spokesman, Tony Sinclair "always in moderation"

So an escape from the dulldrums of everyday Manalapan life once in a while always comes as a welcome experience. The clean, uncrowded beaches, and the adventure and excitement that awaits within the towns all add to the magnificence and seperation from reality that I can only find here, amidst the still waters of the Barneget Bay, and the roaring surf of the mighty Atlantic, here, at LBI.

Surfing

I know I'm not the best surfer. It's my first year with my own board, and I've learned to take 4 foot waves without a problem and occasional 6 when things go my way. I love it. When everything falls into place, you're in just the right spot in the line up, and the wave breaks right where you need it to. You feel the board rush forward, as you strain and paddle with all your might, and that long anticiapted moment comes, you pop up, and ride that sucker into the sand. Its another one of those feelings I'll fight tooth and nail to obtain. And when I foolishly followed Danny Saunders, an experienced and exceptional surfer out into 13ft+ swells I found myself in scary and dangerous places, and good deal closer than I would like to have been from dying. So onto the next passage.

Dying

When I look back into the past, 2 distinct near death experiences come to mind. Falling out of a 2 story balcony in woodbridge at the ripe old age of 3, and falling through the ice at Lake Matawan, when I was about 8-10. Saturday, however, I added a third experience.

The talk was lively, as Danny and I made our way up the beach. We walked farther north to compensate for the strong southern current. I was in good spirits and eager to get out and catch some waves. Back from the beach the waves looked perfect, maxing out around 4-5ft. Perfect for me. As we walked our boards further our into the surf, the mood and relaxed banter slowly began to ebb with the receding tide.

The water became deeper, and at neck height, we were not even through the first set of whitewash. I swung myself onto the board and paddled vigoriously after Danny. Our progess was going well, when a larger wall of white water knocked me back 30 or so feet. Unphased I continued paddling. Then another hit me. And another. Danny was somehow getting past these, and I was getting swept back, making progress, but only to lose most of it to the surging waters. Danny grew smaller and smaller as the distance between us increased. I braced myself for another impact. The water hit, I felt myself tumbling, spray in my face, and the suck of water beneath me rushing me back towards shore. I looked up and saw a break in the waves, and a much needed rest from the constant bomabardment, without hesitation I seized the opportunity and paddled with all my might to try and seek refuge out past the breakers with the other surfers. After a long, draining journey, I was finally along side Danny.

I watched, humbled by the forces at work around me, as the huge swells lumbered westward, arcing and crashing down with size and force which I had never in my life seen before. As the current pulled us south, we had to constantly paddle against it, making 50 yard trips at a time, with maybe a minute or two of rest if I got lucky. Now please forgive me if this theory of mine is incorrect, but as to my current understanding of waves, and the workings of the ocean, the larger a wave is, the more powerful, and the father from shore it breaks.

As I struggled to tail Danny, I spotted a group of large waves heading my way. I paddled straight at them, to meet them before they broke and get over them safely. I barely made it over the first, and much to my horror, waiting for me on the other side, was a 15 foot wall of water, reaching its peak, and breaking into violent white water, not 30 yards before me. I didn't want another ruthles washing machine ride, and before I could scream, I bailed off my board, dove down, and clung to the ankle strap on my leash for dear life. Then it hit me. Not an Idea, not a brilliant thought, my board. I didnt dive far enough, and at full force, the wave carried the board towards me, and knocked me unconscious as I sank deep below the surf, pulled it past me, snapped the leash and carried it to the beach.

Google Images ^ (not actually me) If it was though, you wouldnt be reading this.

I awoke underwater, inside my eyelids. It was almost peaceful. The roar of the surf was gone, and the pounding waves couldn't touch me. I was tempted to stay. Bad idea. I let out a relieved breath of air, only to watched helpessly as the majority of my air supply bubbled to the surface. That was a mistake. I was maybe 20 feet down by the time I regained consciousness, and I swam with all my might for the surface. I didnt think I would make it. I began praying to God not to let me drown. I could feel myself getting light headed, and my brain was throbbing for air. Every muscle in my body was engaged in a epic struggle to save itself. I dreamt of all the things I would never do, have kids, grow old, love somebody. I wasn't ready to die. I had to live. And with this thought fresh in my mind I swam harder.

I could make out the shimmer of the surface. Just as my lungs were seemingly about to collapse, I broke through to the air, only to to draw in a half gulp of air and another half of water as another wave crashed down on me. I broke the surface again spitting up and gasping for air. I got myself stablized and calmned myself down. I began taking a mental inventory of my surroundings. I was still alive. I was still very far out. My board was gone and I would have to swim. Treading water, I spotted a kid on a longboard nearby. I shouted to him to inform Danny that my leash broke, and that I was going to try and swim for shore. With a look of deep concern, he wished me good luck.

I forced my aching arms to swim forward. I knew what I had to do. I pointed myself at the beach and swam for my life as the waves crashed over me, throwing me around like a ragdoll in the rinse cycle. After what seemed like an eternity, my feet hit the sand, and I waded over to Mrs. Saunders and Sami's Uncle Gary, holding the surfboard, and both very worried for me. Admitably I was very shaken up. I didnt want them to worry, and told them I was alright. I put on a brave face and assured them I was unharmed. I mean, physically I was fine, but I had been throttled quite thoroughly and my head was feeling the effects as I made my way onto sweet land.

The broken Leash

I was quiet for awhile. Thanking God and wondering what it would be like to not be able to have kids, grow old, and love somebody, and how very lucky I was to still have those opportunites. I was glad to breathe. The air honestly tasted sweeter. I sat there on the beach and chuckled to myself. A singluar word slipped past my lips. Under my breath and almost grinning I heard myself whisper "damn."

Living

We went to bay village to hang around and eat later that day. The food was amazing. Props to Alicia Crupi for picking the awesome restaurant. We sat down by the shops after dinner, and this guy came over and made a really loud bird noise at us and walked away. He was traveling with a flock of common NJ tools. He came back later and took his shirt off. Not wanting him to be self conscious I joined him. We walked around bay village, and went on the sea dragon, LBI's version of six flag's Bucaneer. (The ship thing that goes back and forth) Afterwards we sat down by the bay and relaxed. It was a fun way to end the day. As I sat looked out across the water it hit me again. Thankfully not a surfboard this time, but that summer feeling. You know about that if you read my last post, but yeah. LBI reeks of that feeling. Its everywhere. Maybe because its so far from my parents, work, and the everydayness of Manalapan, but its here. And I love it.

- Chris

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