As I awoke from my evening slumber, reclining in the La-Z-Boy in front of the TV after dinner with a “few glasses” of wine, there she was.
The beautiful blond flirtatiously pulled her flowing locks away from her face. She spoke with rapture of rogues and freaks, thus immediately capturing my full attention.
After I quickly dabbed a slight bit of drool resultant from my nap, I realized that she was only on the television.
But, I could see that she similarly caught the eye of Jon Stewart. I wasn’t the only one drooling.
The alluring lady had an obvious penchant for good looking, athletic, manly-men…just like Stewart and me.
It’s a shame that the rogues and freaks she was enamored with were mammoth waves, and the good looking guy she was obsessing about was neither Stewart nor myself, but rather the Poseidon-like Laird Hamilton, arguably the most accomplished, yet beyond a doubt, insane big wave rider.
Apparently, it was something about the image of a stark, naked Hamilton hot-wiring a jet ski with iPod headphones, while in the middle of a tumultuous sea, in order to save the life of a fellow surfer.
The woman I was captivated by was Susan Casey, who was being interviewed by Jon Stewart on the Daily Show to promote her latest book, “The Wave: In Pursuit of the Rogues, Freaks and Giants of the Ocean.”
“Part science lesson and part adrenaline rush, The Wave is an intense thrill ride that manages to take a broad look at oversized, potentially devastating waves. This dangerous water includes rogue waves south of Africa, storm-born giants near Hawaii, and the biggest wave ever recorded, a 1,740 foot-high wall of water.”
“The pioneer of extreme surfing is the legendary Laird Hamilton, who, with a group of friends in Hawaii, figured out how to board suicidally large waves of 70 and 80 feet. Also interviews [with] scientists exploring the danger that global warming will bring us more and larger waves.”
While this fantastic read had been sitting amidst my almost insurmountable stack of books I have accumulated, my timing to have just read it was somewhat prescient, as it’s show time over at Mavericks, the über surf site along the central California coast.
To quote those highly educated, eloquent journalists over at the Huffington Post,
In more understandable terms,
“The biggest, most exclusive surfing event in the Bay Area — and arguably America — has officially opened its contest window.”
Another site promised,
“The 2012 Mavericks Surf Contest expects giant Pacific swell. The best big wave surfers of the planet may be called at anytime to take off on the giant sets that will invade Half Moon Bay, California.”
Given that this competition is by invitation only, you might as well stay home and just check out the happenings posted over the interwebs. Websites are providing real-time surf conditions, webcam views, and offering long-range forecasts.
In years past, you might have ventured down to the nearby beach to watch the event along with the cowabunga dudes and dudettes, but due to a previous Charley Foxtrot, not this year.
“Dozens of onlookers were injured on the beach during [the last] event after behemoth waves surged onto the crowd. As a result, this year’s audience will no longer be allowed to watch the competition from its site.”
But, if you still have an undeniable urge to head down to catch sight of a surf-god, in person, the organizers have a not-quite-the-same-as-being-there option.
“Instead, interested parties must gather at a nearby hotel for a live video feed.”
As I have already attempted to drown myself out in the open ocean, if I am going to get wet and wild over this event it will probably be at the local brewpub, which even offers a brew with an appropriate moniker.
While I might not quite have the physique of that Laird dude,
I can still dream of waves that I might be able to someday conquer.
Finally, here’s a semi-secret shout-out to Susan Casey:
Hey, Susan, meet me next week at N37°38’81” W122°38’45”
Hopefully, the wife-person won’t mind my…ah…academic interest in her. Otherwise, the “impact zone” that Casey and Stewart discussed will be the side of my head and the “bleeding out” they mentioned will be my life’s blood emptying out onto the bar floor, while I weakly whimper,
“cowabunga, cowabunga, cowabunga…”