"Go Big or Go Home, Right!" Josh screams and then I lose him through the rain. He's a hundred yards ahead of me and disappearing through a monsoon.
Once again I think that old thought, How the hell did I get myself into this one.
Josh texted me earlier and asked me to go Kayaking.
TEXT: Got boats?
Sure, I think. I called my buddy Art and asked him if it was O.K. to borrow a kayak. Art, being just the cool guy that he is, said sure, although he was juggling about twenty different things and I would have to meet him in front of his place in twenty minutes.
So after cutting out of work a bit early, loading my Kayak and gear in 5 or less, there we were. In front of Art's condo, oceanside and ready to rock.
LINK: Thanks again, Art. Really man.
ART: No Worries bro. I just gotta a lot going on so maybe I'll meet you guys out there in a little bit. Just remember any gear you lose you gotta replace.
LINK: Of course, always man, always.
And there we were. Josh and I putting our Kayaks in and paddling into Big Blue. A nice, dead black sky to the right of us. A storm a coming.
LINK: Uh, just out of curiosity, you ever Kayak in the ocean before, Josh?
JOSH: Nope. In a river once. How hard can it be? These things are sturdy as can be right?
Sturdy as can be. Sure, why not. We're just going out, getting wet... a little sight seeing is all.
Fast forward to the mile and a half paddle out. Still cool. We're in the safe zone. I know these waters. Or at least good enough to have a smile on my face and not much worries.
LINK: Beautiful view, ain't it?
JOSH: Fuckin'A. Hey check out those guys all the way over there. I think that's Art and the other guys. Let's go there.
LINK: Uhh, yeah, but you see that's the BREAK. That's shallow waters. That's the storm coming in. That's big wave. That's... Josh?Josh is gone. A hundred yards away and paddling his ass off for Art, the other guys, and big wave glory.
Go big or go home! I hear Josh scream.
LINK: Yeah, but, you don't have you're gear locked in!
JOSH: No worries, I got it stuck between my legs!
And he's gone. And I'm laughing and shaking my head.
Shit! How the hell did I get myself into this one.
You gotta admire Josh. He's balls out and ready to charge it. But with all do respect he's a first timer, maybe seen to many movies and holding too much pride. Maybe doesn't realize the levity of the situation. Maybe doesn't care that we're in pouring down rains, double... sometimes triple overhead waves, and fucked if caught in the wrong spot. Above all, maybe he's never felt the wrath of Mother Ocean, that cool but decietful slut that can entice you into a world of hurt.
Fuck, what to do?
I laugh and realize the answer.
Fuck it, let's snap a picture.
Finally I catch up with Josh and see Art and a few other surfer's and paddleboarders out. I look over at the Soup, the non-threatening part of the reef and see the Dingy that they motored in on.
Bet Josh doesn't realize that's how they got out here so quick. Nor does he realize the predicament we're in.
The waves are pitching, the rain is coming down in falls, and the crazy fucker is sitting right in the middle of the impact zone. NOT ON THE OUTSIDE. NOT WHERE I'M AT.
Suddenly I realize, wait, am I supposed to be a guide here?
LINK: JOSH, YOU'RE GOING TO GET PITCHED! PADDLE TOWARDS ME, MAN.
Josh just smiles and gives me a thumbs up. Go Big or go home.
And then it happens.
I feel it first and see it second. The OUTSIDE IS COMING.
I turn behind me and see it gathering. A nice, monster of a set, drawing it's energy and building into a wall. I can hear the screams of everyone howling and hooting. Josh hollers too. Twenty Yards in front of me, he hollers. Oh you so don't want to be there, bro.
What to do, what to do? What can you do?
I laugh, point my boat towards the beach( a long way away) and paddle.
In moments it hits. I'm sliding down the face of this monster, looking at Josh about ten to fifteen feet below me, and I'm smiling back.
Oh you so don't want to be there, bro.
The wave hits, the whitewater is all around me, and I'm still laughing. And then I see it.
A missle shoots out of the water just to the left of me. Josh's Kayak. I'm ripping down this wave, laughing, trying to stay upright, and feel the shadow of his Kayak above me like a SCUD MISSLE zeroing down.
Go big or go home.
And still I laugh.
Long story short I finished the wave. Said Hi to Art who got worked on the same set- but we're in the soup and it's cool- and then looked back at the horizon and see Josh's Kayak floating upside down. I think I see Josh... wait... yes, he's recovered and swimming back to his kayak.
Ten minutes later I paddle back into the line up and catch up with Josh who's just getting back to life. He's puking a little saltwater, eyes bloodshot, and shaking his head.
Go Big or Go home.
And I gotta hand it to him. The crazy, first timing motherfucker goes for another one: Repeat and rinse. Get pitched and get worked. And he goes again. Ballsy brother, ballsy. Repeat and rinse.
After a while, and several great huge waves for me I can't help but to add, I catch back up with him and can see he's worked. He's worked, puking salt water, and still smiling. Ballsy brother, ballsy. Mother Nature, ain't she a bitch.
Art and the rest of the group swarm to the Dingy and motor back in- bastards! Oh to be a dialed in Local, how cool.
Josh and I paddle in the old fashion way. The sun has already set. The now crystal clear horizon of San Juan sits before us. And we take our time getting back in. Being that's the only option.
And it's beautiful.
Beautiful, ain't it brother.
Josh pukes up a little more salt water.
Go big or go home.
Ballsy brother, ballsy.
And let's go home.
We've got some gear to buy and replace- anchors, snorkeling masks (Josh's), a new set of balls.
So let's go home now.
And through it all I'm still Cracking Up.
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