Windsurfing on the Oregon coast

[trudyl]

This was posted on

http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/topic.php?uid=228734440713&topic=9723

Olaf (Hawaii, HI)

Some years back I framed this awesome house at Hubbard's Creek near
the town of Port Orford, Oregon. Port Orford is out on Cape Blanco and a
remote, utopic little fishing / artist village. It's the kind of place you pass
through on your way to somewhere else and never give it
much thought.

Hubbard's Creek has a very territorial and aggro group of local
surfers. That's another story that I should tell. It's about how
grown men can act when they feel that their surf territory is threatened
by strange surfers from 25 miles down the coast. That sounds funny
unless you are the one about to get the shit kicked out of you, in your
wetsuit, at 6:30 am, just for having a cell phone in your hand.

My partner on the framing project was Victor "the inflictor"
Roy. Victor is the world champion in masters division in downhill skiing
and he is also a wind surf legend from the early days in The Gorge.

Victor had the task of waking very early every morning and analyzing the
barometric gradient models for the Columbia River Gorge. He would then
record his wind forecast for that day and phone it in to a radio station
in Hood River. Victor's forecast would be aired hourly throughout
the day so the wind surfers in The Gorge would know where to go for the
most favorable conditions.

Little did anyone in The Gorge know that Victor was actually hanging out
with the Pistol River gang down on the south coast. We were living large
and having a blast while framing a really cool house, surfing and wave
sailing, every day.

Every morning I would wake to the sound of Victor's gravelly voice
saying "Good morning sailors, the best conditions will be from
wherever to wherever bla,bla,bla." Then I would hear his van door
open and the next sound would be him kicking the side of my van saying
"Surfs up! Let's go!"

I would roll out of my sleeping bag and drive about a quarter mile down
to the beach at Hubbard's Creek. Victor would already be there and
have his wet suit on waxing up his surfboard.

My wetsuit was usually still wet from the previous evening's
session. It was harsh pulling that wet, cold rubber thing on having had
hardly enough time to wake up.

We would paddle out before the sun came up every day and surf whether
it was good or not.

Hard as it was to get motivated, I never regretted it after the first
wave hit me in the face.

We rarely surfed for more than an hour on those mornings so we were
out of the water, dried off and had our stoves going making coffee and
pancakes on the beach..

After we finished the morning surf and breakfast rituals it was serious
attention to business, nose to the grind stone, power framing until
around one o-clock. Usually, at about that time one of us would get a
call from one of our gang with a wind/surf report from Pistol River
,about 25 miles south of Hubbard's Creek.

One particular day we got a call from, I think it was Dana Miller saying
(in a sing song and tempting manner)" Gale's back in town!"
Meaning that the wind on the ocean is blowing gale force and it's
time for the troops to rally at Cape Sebastian, one of the Pistol River
area's two wind surf launch sites.

We dropped our tool belts and buttoned up the job site. We were on the
road in about five minutes.

The home owner, who was a windsurfer as well, wasn't far behind us.
On the drive down to Pistol I had a good chance to check out the ocean.
It was howling! Gale was defiantly back and she was in a foul mood!
High surf and gale warning flags were flying outside the Coast Guard
station at Gold Beach.

I didn't figure that anyone was going out on the ocean that day. It
was just too gnarly.

I pulled into the Cape Sebastian parking area to find all the gang
assembled and rigging small sails.

I checked out the ocean and it looked big, but doable, so, I rigged a
sail as well.

It was odd to me that there was such a big difference in the ocean from
what I had observed on the trip down from Hubbard's.

With the direction that the wind was blowing, the cape and the small
island in the bay had created a comfortable wind shadow and things had
toned down to a seemingly manageable level.

I sailed for a while and rode several medium sized waves. Then this
monster cleanup set came through that completely annihilated me! I was
separated from my gear and I was swimming and getting worked by the
following waves. I wasn't the only one to get nailed by that set and
it seemed as though every sailor out was caught off guard by that set.
Victor, who had been charging to punch through that same wall of a wave
that took me out, had been denied as well, only, he, still had his gear.
And my stuff wound up fairly close to him.

Victor saw my situation, I just looked desperate! For what reason I
still to this day can't explain why but Victor grabbed my rig and
was holding it along with his own while I swam over to retrieve it. By
this time the next set was about to show up. I was terrified by the idea
of the two of us and our sailboard gear being caught in the same mast
high wave! As swiftly as possible I grabbed my rig from him and water
started just as the next equally massive wave was bearing down on us. I
shoved my feet into the straps and pumped my sail to try to get some
power in it before the monster devoured me. My timing was better this
time and somehow I made it over the first wave of the set which allowed
me access through the next three waves. My adrenaline was soaring by
the time I made it safely outside the impact zone.

Looking back I noticed that I was the only one that had made it through
that last set and the Ocean was littered with swimmers and loose gear
was bouncing everywhere in the frothing white water.

I was in the straps, hooked in and my board was on a steady plane. I was
heading farther out to sea and trying to relax a bit when I realized
that I was in the shadow of the island that I mentioned earlier. The
further I sailed the lighter the wind became until it was gone all
together and I just fell over backwards. It was so still! There are a
few places that I wouldn't recommend swimming and the spot where I
was is one of them. A nice lonely patch of still water in an otherwise
violent sea felt like just the place where the landlord would look for a
snack!

Although it was very still, every now and then a puff would swirl
through and give me a little hope of a water start. I tried to keep my
rig in a water start position but it was so fluky that I just seemed to
go around in circles. The gusts of wind spilling around the small island
were coming from every imaginable direction. I swam my gear through
the seemingly endless calm until I felt the first puff. I smiled and raised
my sail so that it filled a little then set my back foot on the board
and this way I navigated with a little power and some resemblance of
control. I was still moving farther out to sea. I was hoping to clear
the shadow of the island and get a fully powered jibe on the outside,
and charge through the dead air using the (apparent) wind generated in
my sail. I'd had enough of this particular brand of fun and I was
ready to go back to the beach and have a beer with the gang!

As I sailed farther from the shadow of the island the wind picked up to
a comfortable velocity and then without a signal, Gale came from her
hiding place and hit me like a bomb! The force was so great that I was
flattened! Luckily, I still had a firm grip on my rig. There was no way
that I could have survived those seas without a flotation aid!

I had been in strong, violent ocean conditions in the past but this was
clearly beyond anything I had previously experienced. It was
defiantly" Victory At Sea" conditions!

Panic was not an option! Every time I attempted to water start I would
be launched so hard that the rig would be nearly torn from my grip, or,
I would be violently flattened back in to the water. I realized that
sailing was out of the question. I had to hang on to my gear at all
cost! My life depended on it! On one my attempts to water start the
force of the wind ripped a hole in my sail. I was actually happy about
that because it made the sail less powerful.

I came to the realization that I was in the grips of energy that I had
no hope of controlling! My one and only hope of salvation was to keep my
wits about me, hang on to my rig and go with the flow!

I accepted the fact that this just might be the end of the road! This
was it! This is how the story ends! So sit back hang on and enjoy the
wild furry of nature unleashed!

After accepting that I was in a very tight spot, I realized that my
efforts although totally futile were resulting in a small amount of
progress and that I was actually unknowingly heading toward the next
island and that if I could hold some resemblance of a coarse I might be
able to work my way into the shelter of the lee side of it. A lot of
things had to go right in order for that to happen and none of them
were.

My fleeting glimpse of hope vanished when my attention turned from the
distant island to what was right in front of me!

The Oregon Coast is a visually striking scape with its rugged sea stacks
that project from the water with the pounding wind swell colliding with
them creating a visual extravaganza that will stay with a person for a
life time as one of the truly great memories of nature's power! This
day I had a front row seat!

Now, this was not that first time that I had ventured into this arena
and I thought that I knew where all the sea stacks were but with the
size of this wind swell, rocks were manifesting in places that I had
never seen before and I was drifting out of control directly toward one
that was typically submerged.

Terror once again took over. I was drifting in giant waves, powerful
current and nuclear force winds toward an aircraft carrier sized rock
that was being periodically exposed and dry only to be swallowed again
by the next swell.The sea has no conscience and it was about to deposit
me right on top of it!

Once again my mortality came to the surface and I accepted my eminent
demise!

I wasn't going without a fight! SO, I made a hasty plan that when
the wave deposited me on the rock,I would pick up my rig and charge with power and determination,as fast as possible for the far side of the of
the rock.Bare feet or no this is life or life. My only chance was to
make it to the far side before the next wave swallowed and crushed me in
to the rock's exposed razor sharp surface.

Now that I had a plan it was time to execute!

Get Ready,I'm Coming In Hot!

The monster was getting closer and closer! As Yoda said "There Is No
Try!!!"

I was up and then down in the mountainous swells drifting on a collision
course! The rock was only meters in front of me.I was wide-eyed and
anxious for it to happen when the timing of the swell lifted me
completely over the jagged slab without the slightest contact.
I couldn't believe it! Emotion swelled in me beyond any that I have
ever experienced.

The violent winds that drove me to my near demise subsided a little bit
at the same time as I passed over the rock.

I was in a total state of adrinalized euphoria. I water started my
damaged but still serviceable sail. I sailed straight in to the beach. I
was a mile down the coast from where I launched not more than an hour
ago.

I have no words for how I felt after reaching the beach that afternoon.
I was physically and emotionally drained.

I took a moment and noticed the sky, the sand dunes , rock formations,
drifted logs, even bird foot prints in the sand, the green forested
hills were greener than I ever noticed, and a variety of other things
that I typically took for granted on a daily basis were, Ever So Much
More So! Greg had driven down to give me a ride back. He looked at me
with a big grin and said" Man we were watching you from the beach
with binoculars! We thought you were a goner!"I responded" Me too
Dude, That was way too close!"

Greg said, "Throw your rig in the truck and I'll give you a ride
back to the launch."

I responded" Thanks, but I think would like to walk back and
I'll carry my stuff, I need a little time to digest what just
happened and let my soul catch up"

He looked at me and said "cool dude, ever y one is already de-rigged
and heading for the Crows Nest. Take your time and come on down and
I'll buy ya a beer. K?"

"I'll be along in a bit." I said, as I lifted my board and
sail in the head carry position and started the mile walk down the beach
in my wetsuit and barefoot reveling in the fact that I was issued an
extension pass to live yet another day.