As we surfed last light, last night there were signs of a big swell on the way with the occasional bigger wave.  You could feel it in the air that something very special was coming.  The sky just had that look about it.   The Gulf Stream sweeping its way from America, across to the west and north of Scotland, it keeps the all the storms and hurricane remnants pumping huge Atlantic waves along the north shore and with it bringing milder wind.  We are not so lucky this weekend.  The waves are coming from Greenland, travelling around 600 miles per day.  But the weather system is from Norway and it is around freezing.  There is a heavy frost down to the water's edge, which makes the rocks even more treacherous for the, not yet awake, surfer.

 The tide is out but coming in.  We term it ‘on the push’.  This gives the waves more power and better shape.  As the waves travel along the Pentland Firth, which has one of the worst records for shipping disasters in the world, they bend around the points all along the Sutherland coast.  You can usually find some shelter from the wind, if you look long enough.  There is a classic wave along there, which is inaccessible by car, and you are required to walk 3 miles in with your gear, it is well worth it though.  These wild and remote beaches and reefs are for the experienced only.  Tide, rips, undercurrents and fickle winds can have the novice in a whole lot of trouble in no time.  With a limited rescue service and freezing waters, survival out there can be down to minutes.  Not to mention the severe surf pounding over the rocks and crashing into the 500ft cliffs, with no way out.

 As we are wedged into our kayaks and need maximum mobility, we cannot use wetsuits.  This puts and edge on things. Also the only thing between you and the water is a spray cover which has to survive the full force of the crashing wave.  There is no way of manoeuvring a kayak full of water and bailing out is the only option.  There is also your paddle.  You have be able to hold on to it, even when your hands are numbed blocks of icy flesh, when the wave explodes all over you.  I have surfed some of the planets biggest waves in South Africa, Costa Rica and California and I can say without hesitation that a 20ft wave up there can hold its own with any of these places.  When you are in a kayak you have to take what hits you. You cannot jump of the board and swim down or duck under the wave to get out of trouble.  You have to sit there and sometimes look into the pit of monsters and brace for the worst.  This is when having your buddies around makes good sense.  They may not always be able to help you but they can at least go get help. For your surf partner to actually paddle back into the impact zone to pull you out would more than likely end up being just as bad for him.

The boys stir and we say our usual grunts to each other.  There is not too much to say to your surfing mates so early and after 25years paddling.  We know the score and start our rituals.  We all would deny it, but we have our own little things that we do to make ourselves feel more secure when it is going to be a big day.  The preparation of weight training, running, diet, swimming and hours and hours per month surfing, helps get you physically ready.  But what you really have to deal with at this level is the mind.  Get all negative out there and sea seems to know.  You end up not paying attention and getting yourself into the places.  This can get ugly, quick.  I have actually been out on a big day and sat for 45 minutes before feeling right about taking a wave.

I grab a lump of chocolate and Jock gets into a bowl of cereal, a 44-year-old teacher who looks like a Viking, you don’t want to get in the way of Jock and his Frosties.  We put on our gear, fast and take our boats and paddles out of the van.  We can start to see the shapes and size of the waves, and I feel the butterflies going from a flutter to a frantic flap.  Off we go.  I put down my boat on the kelp to prevent it getting scratched and climb in.  Like visiting an old friend, but not quite comfortable yet.  It takes a little warming up and loosening off to get at one with your boat.  You can feel every little movement through the hull and your senses need to sharpen up and get into it.  There are three of us and we all kind of hang back until we are all ready.  We paddle off out to the outer reef where the wave start to break way out in the bay.  We have to paddle out in the river mouth and it sweeps us out toward the waves.  Nothing is said.  We look at each out there and have our own private thoughts.  The sea even smells different.

 We start to feel the swell raise us up and from the time it takes from bottom to top I know it is huge.  The wave shapes are clear now and the peat river water is giving them the blackest of faces. As we paddle past the steep section of the wave, in all the flume froth, I can see the tube forming and spitting out around 10 ft over on to the flat section in front of the wave. I guess the waves to be around 25ft.  It takes a good few minutes before we are in position and we wait until we are together, sitting away from the pick up zone and just watch how it is working.  No rushing in here.  Respect is showing.  We sit there watching a set come in and go by.  Looks do-able and very clean and fast.  Not too intimidating.   I venture over first.  The boys follow.  When the waves are big like this, it is not a good idea to be in each other’s way, so we keep a good distance apart. 

The waves at Thurso are world famous for their long peeling rides and their almost predictability of shape.  This does not always work this way.  Instead of it tripping itself up on the kelp bed over the reef and the tube running from left to right in a gorgeous classic, Hawaiian styled surfy, sexy type of way, sometimes it just comes in huge and all the rules change.  It can break the entire length of the wave in one destructive and beautiful explosion and if you are on it when it goes there is no way out but to go over and over in violent cartwheels just hoping it does not include hitting the reef.  A back breaking experience.

 I spot a few big shapes out at sea and you can see the start of the set out at the point, breaking down the cliff face over two miles away.  I whistle to the boys and the heads are up.  We wait and we know they have gone back into deep water.  It takes around three minutes for them to get to the start of the reef and we all have our internal clocks set for action.  They come.  Black and silent.  Travelling relentlessly towards us.  Born a week ago in storm force winds off Greenland, they are travel weary and looking for their place of rest.  These guys are coming towards us and want everyone to notice so they stand up as tall as they can.  They are not intending to come all this way and just splat on some beach, they have prepared themselves to go out with maximum impact and attention.

  They look like black veils being swept across the water by the gods, somehow sinister and yet beautiful.  You cannot take your eyes of them.  It is all your mind is full of.  You have no capacity for any other thought than for the shapes that approach.  I quickly look at my reference points on the shore.  I am in a good place.  Still they come.  You can sometimes play a little game with your self and close your eyes and imagine you are sitting somewhere else, in a field or on a mountaintop and try to forget for a small time that there is no danger.  I do this sometimes to kick in some adrenaline.  This is not needed today.  The boys move away to give me space for the first wave.  I am ready.

 Underneath my boat I start to feel the water sucking out towards the set.  Like a freight train running to no schedule but their own they are raising themselves way above the horizon line.  The awe inspiring first wave is starting to get some form.  As waves approach a surfer, he can read them and try to predict where the best place is to be, or how they might break and if he wants to take it or not.  I watch.  I read it to be ideal with a much higher end to my right.  This is what I want.  This means the wave should hold up for me as it hits the reef, giving me somewhere to escape.

 I wait and try to predict its path.  I move my boat slightly to the right, about 15ft and watch as the form starts to loom up in front of me.  The peaking area is directly ahead of me.  The boys are gone.  I am on my own.  Just me and the visitor. I decide to go.  It makes me swallow a little and I get into mode.  No time for the feint hearted.  It starts to jack up and show me a glimpse of its true size.  I am now turning my boat toward the shore and start to paddle.  This gives me some speed to start the planning of the hull.  I feel it suck me back towards it.  The world tilts.  Next time you drive down the motorway and you see some lovely shaped grass embankment carved out by the engineers, imagine it a wave and try to see yourself sitting down on the verge and looking over your shoulder at this wall of water.

  The surface of the sea, with the area of a football pitch starts to bend.  I feel it lift under me and suddenly I am up at the top of a 30ft Rhino.  Looking straight down a vertical face.  My pick up is spot-on and as the wave starts to pitch over, I accelerate down the entire face from top to bottom.  As I start to reach the bottom, I know I have to give it a sharp turn to avoid the lip coming down on top of me.  I carve the kayak, leaning all the way over onto my paddle, muscles straining.  In front of me the wave is holding its shape and the curl is chasing me at lightning pace.

  The wave changes shape depending on the reef shape and I feel it is going to lip over my head.  A feeling of dread tightens my gut.  It does.  As the wave curls over with all its might I am only concentrating on surviving the impact and hope it will not hurt too much, when I see further out on the wave face that it has slackened a little.  My world goes darker the lip comes down about ten feet to my left.  I am completely enveloped by the barrel.  Tons and tons of water crashing around me, deafening, when everything goes silent.  For a moment I am at one with the elements.  I am travelling very fast and yet it all slows down.  I feel as though I am no longer there.  I am actually standing on the shore watching myself.  There are messages coming to me, which my other part of my brain is coping with.  It is not automatic; it is all rather natural. In here it all goes quiet and this moment of silence is precious and witnessed by very few.  I feel privileged to share both worlds.  I am humbled before its power.  It gets darker.  Then there it is all dazzlingly bright.  I have made it through.

I ride out to the end of the wave with my heart beating and reality comes rushing back.  My head spins and I take a huge breath of lovely sweet air.  I look around and catch both of the boys coming in on even bigger waves than mine and watch them both disappear from view under the curtain, only to reappear with the broadest of smiles.  We bunch up. The bond between us reinforced.  No words are needed.  We know.  We turn our boats out to sea and paddle out for more.

©2000 Neil Baxter Published in "The Scotsman Magazine" November 2000 SCA Surf