Phil's Near Death Experience.
Phil hadn't been surfing very long, in fact, this was only the third time or so that he had been out. It was a stormy kind of day, and our usual spots were big and chunky, with a steaming high tide, and not looking good. There is only one place worth a look when we're desperate to get into the water, and the weather is like this: Challaborough.
Phil had his trusty new bodyboard, a black stealth bomber of a sponge, also known as a Morey Mach5. He was so new to sponging that he hadn't actually bought any fins yet... Challie was firing pretty good, and unusually for the place, there wasn't a lot of people out. It was wedging off the cliff, and throwing. There were 5 of us; me, Bill, Phil, Craig and Rup, and we were right up for it.
We all suited up, and headed out back. Phil, being a total grom at the time, stormed out back, paddling like a loonie. He went straight out in the rip, on the right of the beach. The rip is actually quite useful, it's one of those handy ones that work like a conveyor belt, pulling you outside. Thing is, Phil didn't know about it, and we forgot to tell him. Hell, you don't tell things like that to groms; the fun is letting them find out for themselves. But Phil didn't have any fins. We'd forgotten that. And Phil, still being a grom, he didn't know about rips...
He got out back in about fifteen seconds. And kept on going. He was struggling to get back into the line up, but he was fully caught in the rip. He was on his way out to sea. Bill noticed what was happening, and followed him out. The rest of us noticed what was happening, and left Bill to it. We were having far too much fun pulling into Challie's ledgy shorey. Bill will save him, no worries. Phil drifted out to where the rip disappeared, and stayed there. Bill was still with him, but Phil wasn't in any trouble. He just got held in place by the eddy, not going any further out to sea, but not coming in to shore either. He didn't know that though...
Bill was getting pissed off trying to coax Phil into paddling his way back in, and tried to tow him. The rip was too strong, and there was no way round the rip, because the cliff was in the way. Bill left him and paddled in to get one of us to come out and help him get Phil back in. But the waves were fun, and we knew he wasn't in trouble...
'Fucksake, come and help me get him.'
'Yeah, yeah, in a minute, just one more wave.'
After about an hour, Phil was getting nervous, and Bill was getting seriously pissed off nursing him, when he could have been getting pitted with the rest of us. Bill finally guiltripped me into going out there, and I went out to help. Phil was drilled after paddling aimlessly without fins for a coupla hours, going nowhere, and I couldn't be arsed to mess about. I had a go at towing him, but it wasn't working.
There was one easy way out of this problem.
'Right Phil, we're going to climb up the cliff.'
'er..ok.'
Ah, so trusting....it seemed like a good idea at the time. We had a plan; wait for a lull, then paddle like hell onto the ledge at the bottom of the cliff. Once we were on there, we could scramble over the boulders at the bottom of the cliff, which are clear of the water, and get back to the beach. This was the plan anyway.
There seemed to be a lull in the sets, so I yelled at Phil, and we paddled like maniacs towards the ledge. Two things went wrong... First off, it wasn't a very good lull. Actually it wasn't a lull at all; there was a monster coming in. I got to the ledge, right in front of the cliff, when the wave surged round me from behind. I hadn't seen it coming. It picked me up, and rushed me into the rocks. I wasn't ready for it , I lost my board, and I kinda bodysurfed it in,my board bouncing along on my leash behind me, flying in to the cliff at high speed...As the wave got as high as it was going to get across the ledge, I grabbed a boulder, and held on with a death grip. The wave went back out, and I was left high and dry. I got a few cuts, but was ok. Uh oh, where's Phil?
Phil was having fun. Problem number two: Phil didn't have fins. We'd forgotten again. He hadn't got himself half as near to the cliff as I had done when the sneaker wave came in. He made it onto the ledge, but was stuck floundering about right in the impact zone. Me and Bill were both yelling at him, hoping he'd make it to the relative safety of where I was standing. We could see a bomber of a wave looming up, and there was no way Phil was going to beat it. Hell, he hadn't even seen it.
We shouted at him to hang on, and he realised what was about to happen, and grabbed the nearest chunk of rock. The wave broke right on top of him, the lip bouncing off him. He looked like the boulder he was clutching, hanging on under six feet under water. We could see him down there, bubbles streaming off him, his board jumping around at the end its leash, and he was just hanging on. Oh fuck, any second now, he's gonna let go and get thrown into the cliff. The wave carried on over him, and surged up to my thighs. Phil was too deep to see now, and we waited for the wave to go back out. We couldn't see Phil at all.
'Oh shit.'
The wave surged back out. We expected to see him gone, but Phil was still there, hanging on to his rock, and gasping.
'Fuckin' hell...'
Phil stood up, and legged it up to me. Half an hour later, we had scrambled back to the beach. Phil went straight back into the water, but this time, stayed in the shorey. And I was seriously pissed off, cos I got a big chunk of foam taken out of my brand new Manta.
By Jon.
