Okay, I'll admit it: I am afraid. I get scared out in the water when the waves get big. I am not one of those fortunate few who were somehow passed over when they were doling out the fear gene. My parents never threw me in the shore break as a toddler, only to have me emerge laughing like I was born to play in the waves. No, big waves scare me, plain and simple.

Now don't get me wrong. I regularly surf double overhead waves at a variety of bigger-wave spots in Northern California. I have an 8'4" in my quiver that I use frequently during the winter. But I get frightened, oh yes, and have to constantly swallow my fear to keep it at bay.

Often times, while watching from shore, my ego and my Darwinian-bred fight-or-flight defense mechanism battle it out amongst each other. I know many of you know what I'm talking about. It is the same struggle so eloquently conveyed in William Finnegan's infamous 1992 New Yorker story, "Playing Doc's Games." In it, he describes the constant battle between one's ego, and one's own common sense, with a solid helping of peer pressure thrown in for good measure. That article spoke to me, and I know it spoke to many of you, as well.

Over the years I have managed to quell my fear—hide it may be a more appropriate description—through a combination of experience, conditioning, and improved ability. The extra flights of stairs, the laps in the pool, that last pull-up, all conspiring to repress the masked apprehension. But the fear remains, lurking beneath the surface, ready to take firm grasp of my psyche when the waves swell to size.

Unlike many of my peers, I have no burning desire to surf Maverick's. Oh, on some esoteric level perhaps I do. But when faced with the reality of actually paddling out, waiting for a solid set wave, and turning around and taking off, I do not, and I know it. It's interesting to note that it's not the actual riding of a giant wave that is the source of my nightmares, but rather it's getting caught inside. The scenario of paddling for a very large wave and missing it, only to turn around and be faced with three larger waves feathering outside—this is the demon that haunts my dream world.

The surfing media has not helped me. They continuously feed the "ego vs. fear" struggle by glorifying big-wave surfing and these so-called "hell-men" who tackle giant surf, making the rest of us feel less than adequate if we back away from conditions that scare us, or are simply beyond our ability and experience. Now I maintain the utmost respect, even awe, for surfers who charge the big stuff. It's just that I don't need to be constantly heckled by a magazine, calling "chicken" any time I don't paddle out when it's 20 foot+. I recall many years ago reading with alarm a famous quote from Mark Foo asserting (and I'm paraphrasing here), ". . . Surfers cannot feel fear. Fear causes hesitation and hesitation will cause your worst fears to come true." Excuse me? While I understood the logic at the time, I remember thinking that if this were indeed the case, not only was I putting myself at risk, but I was going to be passing on plenty of surf sessions for years to come. For like it or not, fear has always been part of my program, its presence part of the deal. Regardless of how others approached the challenge, I personally realized I was going to have to figure out how to co-exist with fear if I was to have any hope of enjoying, or even participating in, bigger-wave sessions.

I have always thought that fear was a fascinating emotion, a combination of rational and irrational responses able to take over the mind and body without warning. It is particularly intriguing as it relates to large surf. While surfing has been documented as one of the safest sports in terms of injury rates or fatalities, fear nevertheless remains a significant factor for most surfers I speak with. Further, most wave riders are strong swimmers and in excellent all-round physical condition. In theory, as a group we should be able to handle some extreme situations. Perhaps then it is the unpredictable nature of the sport: you never know for sure what the ocean will throw your way, and that randomness is unsettling. In the same way that earthquakes or tornados frighten the average population, big waves may induce similar emotions in surfers.

I will continue to push myself into bigger surf, as I do enjoy the challenge and thrill of riding waves several times my height. But I have come to grips with the fact that I will never be a big-wave hell-man, as so colorfully depicted in various surfing publications. I am okay with this. I have fun, and that's what's important, right? Right??? But this does not prevent the inevitable day-to-day struggle that comes with facing conditions that stretch my comfort zone—the nervous pacing in the parking lot, the stalling, the excuses. For this all I can do is be honest with myself. I am afraid.

Get some waves. - DL

Other articles by Dane Larson

Send this article to a friend

Send your comments to SurfPulse or discuss publicly in SurfPulse Lounge