DUDE, WHERE’S MY GEAR?
We got together in the water and started to rig. I realized that, during my earlier wipeout, I had smashed the tail off the board, lost half of my mast, my extension and had also ripped out my bottom-turning-side fin. I looked around thinking, “what the fuck am I going to do”? There was no way to paddle back to the beach. I was just too far downwind by this point. I looked upwind towards Jaws and could see jet skies parked in the channel so I decided to try and paddle into the wind to get to the cluster of skis in the channel. After about 40 minutes of paddling I reached them and the guys were like, “were the fuck did you come from”? I was too tired to explain my situation and just asked if anyone had a spare mast and extension. Luckily one of the skis had a spare mast and I began to rig. Robby was already sailing at Jaws by this point, ripping some really nice turns. I’m sure he must have wondered where the hell I was. After a short while I was finally ready to get some waves – minus a side fin. Great!
After a few waves I got a north breaking wave and span out in the bottom turn (no side fin!) and tracked up the face of the wave and out the back side of the wave only to find myself right in the impact zone of the west peak. A huge west set just happened to be marching in at that moment and broke about 30 feet in front of me. I literally ran down my sail and dove into the water only to be sucked backward and rag-dolled again. The ski rescue came and got me but my rig was completely destroyed. By that point I was so pissed off I just took my board and paddled back to the rocks for 1 more slamming. I just wanted this day to be done and could not wait on the ski for the other guys to finish their session. I climbed the cliff with just my board, blood all over my legs and glad the day was done.
