FIGHTING THE SEA
Posted by Erik Frey Fri, 03 Jan 2003 06:38:00 GMT
when i was seven, johnny took me to hawaii for the summer.
more than surfing, or body-boarding, or anything else, what i remember most about that summer was waking up early, before anyone else, and running out to the sea…
... standing chest deep in the early morning tide, when the waves were still big enough to scare away anyone but the surfers.
i never had to wait too long before i’d see a swell. my breath would catch and something in my chest would hiccup for a moment as the water level around me began to sink, and my vision filled from bottom to top with nothing but shimmering water, a wall that was perhaps a story taller than i was, moving somehow impossibly slow and fast, straight towards me.
i’d yell, clench my fists, and slam into the wave for all i was worth. sidekicks, uppercuts, body slams, back-hands – all manner of destruction would i deliver on the approaching wave.
but the result was always the same.
my act of agression was always followed by a jolt (sometimes painful), and then, oblivion.
i’d open my eyes and see clouds of yellow. sometimes hints of grey and blue. i’d feel that familiar sensation that told me i was rolling. occasionally i’d feel a burn or scrape from smacking a shoulder or knee along the ocean floor. very occasionally i’d feel a stab or smack if i was unlucky enough to roll across a piece of coral.
the first times i did it, i’d realize i was running out of breath and begin to flail, trying to right myself and pull above the tumult long enough to suck in a glorious breath of air.
after a while i learned it was best to simply wait it out patiently, until the spinning slowed down, until the chaos and oblivion had decided it had had enough of me. i’d spread my arms and legs, catch my feet in the sand, and stand up, dizzy and groggy, long enough to breathe deeply, before falling over again, kneeling in the shallow water, allowing the ringing in my ears to subside.
it was so grand. the release of anger followed by complete silence and peace, and the breath that signified my reemergence into the world. i had it in for the sea, and the sea had it in for me. although somehow i knew it was toying with me, and in some way i was thankful it didn’t mind me beating on it with such naked agression.
by the end of the day i’d be bruised and battered. i’d limp away, calling the sea a worthy opponent, though it was none the worse for wear.