While in this weird world between worlds, I dropped in on one, hit the bottom hard and pulled up under the lip. As it threw out over me and came crashing down something strange happened. I was in the tube, hurtling across the wave just trying to stay on and come out and suddenly everything slowed down until it was if I were in a slow motion film. The wave overhead, the spray, me - everything slowed - I could actually see the spray separating into droplets. Weirder still, it was quiet. Almost totally silent. The only sound I was aware of was the sound of my board slicing the face of the wave. Even though I was deep inside the barrel I could not hear the sound of the wave breaking all around me. I felt calm and serene, or even a little detached for however many moments or fractions of a second it lasted, then suddenly I was blasted back into real time as I came careening out of the tube.
It didn't really hit me until I had paddled back out past the impact zone. Oddly, I wasn't surprised; I was still in kind of a tranquil state. I am normally pretty loud and enthusiastic when surfing, but not this day. I was uncharacteristically subdued. I rode with a peaceful intensity. I surfed better than I know how. I caught wave after wave - including a second silent-slow-motion tube ride. It was almost as if I were in tune with the Ocean. At least on that day, at that foggy spot I experienced some kind of altered consciousness that put me in sync with those waves. After nearly four decades of surfing, I have never had a stranger, or a more rewarding session.
When I finally paddled in my day was where I had left it a few hours earlier, but I was different. Maybe the break had just charged my emotional batteries, or the physical exertion displaced stress. Perhaps the thrill of riding great waves simply lifted my spirits.
All I know is, I came out of the water stronger than when I went in. I felt better and I felt grateful - to God or Mother Ocean, or whatever it was that touched me that day. I would have to call it an almost spiritual experience. Don't get me wrong. I didn't come out of the water quoting scripture or pledging my life to Mother Theresa, but for a little while, the ocean took me to a place where the was no death, no war, no famine, no anger - no anything - just surf - and it let me stay until I felt better.
I have heard of others experiencing the silent-slow-motion phenomenon - like professional football players, race car drivers and even a jazz pianist - but I don't think that was totally responsible for the feeling of well-being I experienced walking up the beach to my car.
Do you want to know what I really think? I think there is magic in the wsater!
