The Great Crash of 2010

From the first day out, the ocean swell increased daily.  The surf report indicated a week of waves and I had promised my surfing friends on Koh Phayam surf for Christmas.  By the fourth day, the swell was running about 2 meters and with no wind each glassy roller rose up like a ghost from the sea, loomed and passed, only to be followed by another.  This type of condition is not a problem when you are out in the ocean.  It makes for some interesting moments at the outset, however, when your paddling mate is there and then gone.  If you are more than  a few meters apart it is possible to rise together on a wave and see each other and then fall into the trough and feel completely isolated and vulnerable the next minute.  It doesn't take long to get used to this as the waves do not break and there is no inherent danger.

But approach the shore and things change rapidly.  The waves stand up and then break onto the beach.  If the beach is long and shallow, the waves tend to break a little further out and the mush rolls in making for a manageable landing.  However, if the beach is steep, the wave gathers and stores its energy until it stands up and suddenly closes out, slamming onto the sand.  Landing under these conditions becomes difficult and occasionally dangerous as the size of the swell increases.  We termed this a "hard landing", not for difficulty, but for the impact.

It was Christmas Eve day and we were paddling along Ko Ra, the first of three islands off the coast of Kuraburi.  After a nice lunch at Ko Ra Eco Lodge, we paddled to the outside (west coast) of the island.  The swell was large and the waves crashed on the beach with a thundering roar.  The plan was to go inside at the channel between Ko Ra and Ko Phra Thong, were we could have a gentle landing and find a place to hang the hammocks.  As is often the case, even the best laid plans can go sideways.

The channel between the two islands is narrow and sandbars flank both the north and the south side of the entry.  Approaching the channel, it was easy to see the waves crashing everywhere and white water foaming into the channel.  After examining the situation for a few moments, I suggested to Ian that we head back along the island to a beach we had passed a earlier rather than risk going over in the waves.  He agreed and we proceeded to a long stretch of beach.  As we neared the shoreline, I could see that the waves were breaking hard and fast on the steep beach.  Nonetheless, I was confident that we could land safely.  I detailed how I was going to attack the situation to Ian and left him to watch me go in.  I moved closer to the breaking section of the wave and waited for an opportunity to go in, checked that everything on my deck was securely strapped on, raised the rudder and waited.  A sizeable wave broke and I started to follow the whitewater in - all as planned.

The next thing I knew, a very strong rip current had formed and was pulling my boat sideways and out to sea.  Knowing that I was unable to fight it, I went with the rip to go back out and try my approach again.  I rode up high over the next incoming wave thinking I was in good position ... and that was when a clean-up wave caught me.  It lifted my kayak up to the very lip, barreled and then slammed me upside down on the beach with all its force.  I reached for the rip-cord on my spray skirt to get out but could not find it in all the rushing water.  Running on a mixture of adrenaline and auto-pilot, I attempted an eskimo roll.  I managed to get far enough over to gasp for a mouthful of air when the next wave hit.  Again operating on reflex, I slammed my knee up into the spray skirt to free myself and I managed to get out of the boat and get it onto the beach before the following wave thumped me.

That was when I noticed that every single item on my deck was floating out to see on the rip - my charts, GPS, fishing rod, water pump ... everything.  I raced into the sea and began collecting the items when the rip current started to suck me out.  The spray skirt allowed the water more surface area to work its evil way and I found myself fighting to get in to shore.  I managed to collect everything and force my way to the beach.  The only thing missing was an old pair of sunglasses that was no real loss.

I gathered everything a little higher up on the beach - including my senses - and turned to check on Ian.  I had no idea what was running through his mind at that point, but I could guess.  Later, he told me that it freaked him out when he heard my yell and then saw me upside down, but my focus was getting him onto the beach safely.  I moved a few hundred meters along the beach where there was a less active spot and coached him in between wave sets as I had attempted.  Just as he beached, a wave tipped him over, but I was standing there, flipped him upright and he climbed out safe and sound.

In my sister's home, we have what is known as 'the family motto': nobody was hurt.  As we sat around dinner that evening listening to the waves thunder like artillery shells on the beach-head, I told Ian the motto and we reviewed the lessons learned.  Safe and out of harms ways, we joked about "The Great Crash of 2010", but secretly I was counting my blessings.  Next morning I tied a fixed line to every item on my deck to ensure it would not be washed away a second time.