The wave that broke my ribs wasn’t this big. The one that nearly drowned me as I tumbled in its washing machine grasp, battered by its might, by my board, by my own flailing limbs. I resurfaced gasping and clawing and unable to breathe through the agony of cracked ribs. As I pulled some painful air into my lungs the unforgiving wall of water fell on me again.

That was the backside of an American hurricane last Autumn. This is the biggest wave I’ve looked at since. The fear is right, it teaches me respect for the power I play over. Panic is a mistake. It clouds my reactions and diminishes my ability to do what needs to be done.

I did not panic when that second wave hit. If I had I would be dead now. I would have inhaled ocean, I would have fought against a force much too great to challenge and it would have broke me. Instead I went with it. I put my arms over my head and tucked my chin into my chest, brought my knees up into a foetal position and let the ocean have me. She spun me around for a long time, too long, then eventually spat me out, ragged and choking, in the shallows. Some of the other surfers were already slooshing towards me, their boards abandoned in the waist high water. Strong arms pulled my floppy carcass to safety. My leash dragged the broken third of my board that remained. The other two thirds missing somewhere out in the fray.

It takes a long time for ribs to heal and its remarkable how quickly condition goes. I might just be as fit now as I was then, but only just. I stare down this monster of a wave, a semi-psychotic grin plastered on my face. Fear and respect, but never panic. No hesitation. I drop my shiny white new board, its first coat of wax smelling like candy. I drop it into the clear gurgling water at my knees and begin to walk it out. The monster wave roars ahead of me, calling me, challenging me. I drop to the sticky, scented fibreglass plank. My belly becomes one with the board, through it I feel the ocean’s movement. We breathe against each others chests, like lovers in an embrace. Like warriors locked in combat. I savour this moment, then I begin to paddle out into the monster’s maw.