Surftwisted Surf Magazine

Twenty five years ago, thin- blooded from a long stint of work and surf in the balmy waters of the Carribean, I paddled out at Croyde on a January morning similar to today. Strong offshore winds, and freezing water. On that occasion, as was the norm for those days, my ill fitting, torn wetsuit was little help against the vicious elements. Boots, gloves and hat were pretty much unheard of luxuries. There was no-one else out that morning… there often wasn’t back then. My usual surfing buddies had something else to do, but I needed a surf even if the water was friggin’ close to intolerably cold.

“Just a couple of waves” I thought, realising pretty quickly as I duck-dived the first set, that there wasn’t going to be much water time.

A drop, and a close-out later, near hypothermic, I was more than ready for a ride in. And that was when my leash snapped.

Shit.

The swim in, with Croyde’s rippy banks working their magic, and a stiff sou’easter to fight, took me to the very limit of my endurance. Exhaustion and cold had pretty much got the better of me when, dumped for the umpteenth time by a freezing wave, I felt my feet touch bottom. Still perilously close to losing it, that moment of contact with solid sand gave me hope, enough of a lift to make one last massive effort, which ultimately carried me into the shore break and onto the beach.

Barely able to lift myself, let alone struggle back up to the car; and then somehow to drive home with legs, arms, lips, all chattering and trembling uncontrollably; took the last of my dwindling energy reserves. I crawled to the bathroom and ran enough hot water to immerse myself in for half an hour, ultimately to come back from the brink of needing hospital treatment to something like normality.

Rob Puig’s pictures of an exhausted, frozen surfer being rescued from the same stretch of water today brought back those memories. There wasn’t a high speed RIB or a regular helicopter patrol back then, and not many people looking anyway. I think I was pretty lucky to have survived that experience.
So finding it hard to paddle out is all very well, but finding it hard to paddle in is infinitely more dangerous. Check your kit, take account of the conditions, and take the fitness regime seriously. You might need it one day.