Yesterday was memorable for the wrong reason.
I went around the beach about 150 metres from where we usually swim to where most of the swimmers and surfers on Emerald Beach go in the water. The surf was pretty big, so after playing around with Johanna for a bit I headed out again with Zac, Heidi and Rachel. We had good fun body surfing, Rachel had a body board, and always the adventurous one, was chasing the bigger waves just a bit further out.
She was about ten metres away. I told her to come back in a bit, the surf seemed to be getting a bit bigger and I didn't want her caught on a wave she couldn't handle. "I'm trying to," came her anxious reply. I swam toward her and assured her everything was alright and to catch the next wave in.
I've heard about rouge or freak waves. But like lots of things, until I experience it, its not that I don't believe it, its just that there is no experience to affirm the theoretical knowledge. All of a sudden the water built behind her then lifted her what seemed like metres above me, and then she was catapulted toward the beach. I had gone underwater to avoid the break. When I re-emerged and looked toward the beach, not only was Rachel nowhere to be seen (I would later learn she had ridden the wave of her life all the way to the beach after the biggest drop she's ever likely to experience), but Zac and Heidi who were 15 metres away before the wave broke were now 40 metres away. They hadn't moved, I had.
The beach seemed an eternity away. I have never seen the beach from this perspective before. Even when I go 'out the back' to surf, I do so only when the waves are smaller than this. The waves were breaking about 20 metres towards the beach.
At first I didn't realise what had happened so I swam towards the beach. After a few minutes I knew it was futile. My only previous experience of rips was much closer into shore where it is matter of a few strong strokes to get back to where you can touch the bottom. I was more afraid than I would have thought I would be. Even though the beach would have only been 150-200 metres away, the ocean felt huge. And I was alone in it with no floatation.
OK. What is the standard advice? Don't panic. Swim parallel to the beach. It didn't occur to me at the time that one way might have been better than the other. I chose poorly. After swimming for a few minutes and not sensing any progress I realised I was in trouble.
It's not that I'm a poor swimmer, I'm not great, but I swim in a pool regularly for reasonable distances. Of course swimming in the open water with not insignificant swell is an entirely different matter. That I had been in the water for a few very energetic hours already in the morning was probably the main problem because I felt myself beginning to tire, sooner than felt comforting.
Up until this point I had exercised senseless pride. Only the fools on 'Bondi Rescue' need help. I was now one of them although there were no life savers to come to my aid. I raised my arm and waved it hoping it was visible. The kids later explained that I was only rarely in view. I was far enough out that the swell was obscuring where I was. Similarly, I could only infrequently see the people on the beach. I knew the kids knew I was out there, but at this point I had no idea whether Rachel had been hurt and whether she was the focus of their attention.
I raised my arm again and waved. It had not occurred to me before I saw them that there would be surfers further along the beach. As it turned out one had seen my first wave and was now only 20 metres away. His mate, was following him too. With a board I could now rest and I knew I would be OK. After asking if I was OK, he exclaimed, 'That was a big one wasn't it!" He explained that he had watched me go out to Rachel then had been distracted. (Probably trying to catch a wave!)
I am extremely thankful he had been nearby. The kids, I later learned, had planned to get one of our boards out to me themselves, not a great strategy in hindsight. My rescuer and I sat out the back for some time. I was thankful that he was not only nearby but experienced. He was unsure which way to go so we waited. After a few minutes we determined that the current was taking us in the opposite direction to which I had previously tried to swim.
When we sensed we were clear we headed for shore. I was on the board, the bloke beside me was now swimming, leg rope still attached to the board. When we got closer to the breaks he climbed on my back, "a bit homo", he said, "but it works." We caught a wave. He jumped off but we were still too deep to stand up so he jumped back on my back. After another wave we both deboarded. He paused briefly while I shook his hand and thanked him and he was gone, paddling back toward the horizon.
I turned to see Zac and Heidi. Heidi was clapping above her head. Rachel, to my relief, was behind them carrying a surf board.