“And every little wave had its nightcap on,
Its nightcap, white cap, nightcap on.
And every little wave had its nightcap on,
So very, very early in the morning.”
by Laura E. Richards, first copyright 1902
Are you familiar with that little song? I use to sing it to my kids. Sadly, they probably don’t even remember.
It’s very gusty around here this morning. I cut short my usual pre-breakfast walk with Molly. It was crazy walking conditions, head down into the gale and the wind thundering in my ears like a subway train. I worried that a tree might fall on me.
Instead, I grabbed my camera and drove down to the beach. I could feel every great blast of wind rocking the car as I dodged fallen limbs on the road. I was giddy with anticipation. Today would be an awesome morning to visit the water. I questioned however, if it might be a bit dangerous driving in these conditions. (what a wooze I was)
The sun’s light over the water was stunning. I parked at the side of the road and sat in my car, humbled by its beauty. Five foot waves were cresting and breaking onto the shore. My camera doesn’t do them justice. They look small and non-threatening while in fact they were violent and boisterous.
When I opened the car door the wind grabbed it and whipped it out of my hand. My god, the force of the raging wind caught me unprepared. I used the car to brace myself and steady my camera hand.
Quite suddenly, out of no where another car pulled up. I watched as two guys hopped out and started pulling out their gear. They were dressing into wet suits. Surfers?? Here I am nervous about driving down a road and these men were preparing to venture out into the crazy waves. That is just madness. Its January. This is Canada. It is well below freezing out here. This is really dangerous stuff happening. I don’t understand how they were able to stand up right, let alone hold on to their boards and advance, deeper into the water. The pull of the undertow and power of the crushing waves seemed beyond human endurance. It was thrilling to observe.
They said they were locals and had been doing this for years. They had another car parked 1 km down the road waiting to drive them back to their point of origin. It was madness. Out 100 feet from the shore they bobbed in the wild foam and soon disappeared completely. I waited but for what? They were gone from sight. This is the definition of an extreme sport. Madness.
I headed back to the car and steered for home. Inside the vehicle it was still and quiet. I was safe and glad to be away from the deafening crash of the surf. But, what a treat. Thank you boys for the private show. It was a winner on a blustery morning.
I could hear the sound of the waves and feel the wind as I read about your experience. I enjoyed it right along with you. Great pics,
that is why I live vicariously – to enjoy others’ extreme sports
My mother sang this little ditty to me 75 to 80 yrs ago. Is there only one verse