I was joined by local big wave surfer Ramon Navarro who had also paddled into the wave. Together we rode the first wave, giving each other a little Shaka towards the end of the ride just to say that everything was cool. I turned off my first one like Robby, but I had planned to see the huge, wide set wave breaking just in front of me a little wider! I lay in the water next to my gear as 20 feet of white water bore down on me. I concentrated on breathing deep and long and tried not to panic. At the last moment I stood on my floating sail and dived as deep as I could. Icy cold water engulfed my body and I got tumbled around like a rag doll. Normally I would wear a flotation device when the surf gets over 12 feet but airport security in LA had confiscated my CO2 canisters, so I had nothing to wear. While under water I heard my mast snap like a toothpick and I knew I’d be down for a while. When I got to the surface I immediately waved for the ski to come get me. As I lay there waiting, I thought to myself that my day might be over. Flying all that way for one average wave was not what I had hoped for. Sometimes you get lucky and sometimes you get unlucky when riding big surf. When the sets are that big and you’re that close to the impact zone you catch what you can when you can regardless if it’s the first wave of the set or the last. Robby had been picking-off set waves and then jibing-out with no close-outs behind him. It wasn’t anyone’s fault – I just got unlucky, plain and simple.