I am very reluctant to surf at sunset any more. Let me tell you my story. . It was on the West coast of South Africa, just north of Lambert’s Bay, after my sea fisheries inspector work was done for the day I paddled out into the setting sun at a beach break, to enjoy a grand 8 foot glassy swell. But the strangest thing happened. Just as I made it out to the back, the swell literally disappeared. The next set of waves was 6 foot, I thought I’d wait for the next 8 footer, the next set was 5 foot, the next 4, the next 3 and within two minutes the sea was just a cradle rocking, with a small little 1 foot ripple bumping onto the beach with a distant little shushing noise every now and then. . Against the setting sun the sea was dark and shadowy, black to glassy green, and I didn’t like being this far away from the breaking waves. I’ve always had an inkling that sharks would be disinclined to venture into the surf as a mild preference of theirs, but happy to cruise the calmer waters. Now I was alone, ‘all, all alone on a wide, wide sea’, about 450 feet from shore, on a gently breathing dark green ocean. I lifted my hands and feet out of the water, not out of fear but just as a sensible precaution as I’ve done many times. . As I lay there looking at the sun’s moving reflection, wondering whether to paddle in again, all of a sudden, directly in front of me and about 15 feet away, coming directly towards me, a long black fin rose up out of the water. It rose smoothly up, and up, and up with water rushing down it, for all the world like a submarine periscope rising up out of the sea - I could not see either side of it - shush-rush-shush-rush-dribble-pour-dribble with the sound of the water running off it. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Over 2 feet it rose into the air at a steady relaxed speed, and then started to sink again with a quiet bubbling as it went down. With the sun turning the water to liquid gold and the water below still a shadowy dark green I could see very little but I frantically looked left, right, left, right, back and all over again, but could not see a thing. My nerves were taut and I was mulling over whether to try and punch from the board as I waited for something that never came. I waited a good five minutes before I had the courage to dip a hand into the water, turn myself around and paddle tentatively and as gently as I could back to shore. . Every paddle sent a ripple through the ocean that I knew sharks could feel and strained my nerves to breaking point. The shore seemed so far away though... so I paddled a little more firmly… which would send a stronger signal… so I added a touch more speed... which sent an even stronger signal... In the end my nerve gave out on me and I paddled in a sprint for the last 50 meters. :)
@@ep9203 It was terrifying. I still wonder what it was. The part of the fin above water was literally 2 feet high. Maybe it was a curious shark, and when I saw it and moved my head and rocked my board it realised I wasn't a basking seal. Maybe it could see my head through the water. Also my board had a rainbow style pattern underneath so it would have looked poisonous. Or maybe it was a coincidence that it was heading right for me and it got a fright. The part that really mystifies me is why I saw nothing. Technically it's possible that if it swam straight under me I would not have seen it, I guess.
A real fiber and minerals session that's good for the Sol!
Beautiful day and awesome rides!
For sure you are right
The person videotaped the short clips is well good at it
I am very reluctant to surf at sunset any more. Let me tell you my story.
.
It was on the West coast of South Africa, just north of Lambert’s Bay, after my sea fisheries inspector work was done for the day I paddled out into the setting sun at a beach break, to enjoy a grand 8 foot glassy swell. But the strangest thing happened. Just as I made it out to the back, the swell literally disappeared. The next set of waves was 6 foot, I thought I’d wait for the next 8 footer, the next set was 5 foot, the next 4, the next 3 and within two minutes the sea was just a cradle rocking, with a small little 1 foot ripple bumping onto the beach with a distant little shushing noise every now and then.
.
Against the setting sun the sea was dark and shadowy, black to glassy green, and I didn’t like being this far away from the breaking waves. I’ve always had an inkling that sharks would be disinclined to venture into the surf as a mild preference of theirs, but happy to cruise the calmer waters. Now I was alone, ‘all, all alone on a wide, wide sea’, about 450 feet from shore, on a gently breathing dark green ocean. I lifted my hands and feet out of the water, not out of fear but just as a sensible precaution as I’ve done many times.
.
As I lay there looking at the sun’s moving reflection, wondering whether to paddle in again, all of a sudden, directly in front of me and about 15 feet away, coming directly towards me, a long black fin rose up out of the water. It rose smoothly up, and up, and up with water rushing down it, for all the world like a submarine periscope rising up out of the sea - I could not see either side of it - shush-rush-shush-rush-dribble-pour-dribble with the sound of the water running off it. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Over 2 feet it rose into the air at a steady relaxed speed, and then started to sink again with a quiet bubbling as it went down. With the sun turning the water to liquid gold and the water below still a shadowy dark green I could see very little but I frantically looked left, right, left, right, back and all over again, but could not see a thing. My nerves were taut and I was mulling over whether to try and punch from the board as I waited for something that never came. I waited a good five minutes before I had the courage to dip a hand into the water, turn myself around and paddle tentatively and as gently as I could back to shore.
.
Every paddle sent a ripple through the ocean that I knew sharks could feel and strained my nerves to breaking point. The shore seemed so far away though... so I paddled a little more firmly… which would send a stronger signal… so I added a touch more speed... which sent an even stronger signal... In the end my nerve gave out on me and I paddled in a sprint for the last 50 meters. :)
Thanks for sharing! Always in my mind as a Cape Cod surfer on gloomy days.
Holy fawk! That would have me shitting myself.
@@ep9203 It was terrifying. I still wonder what it was. The part of the fin above water was literally 2 feet high. Maybe it was a curious shark, and when I saw it and moved my head and rocked my board it realised I wasn't a basking seal. Maybe it could see my head through the water. Also my board had a rainbow style pattern underneath so it would have looked poisonous. Or maybe it was a coincidence that it was heading right for me and it got a fright. The part that really mystifies me is why I saw nothing. Technically it's possible that if it swam straight under me I would not have seen it, I guess.
Where I live this happens all the time, uncrowded magic only a dedicated surfers experience
The title of the video is correct
This is awesome to watch after seeing news and clips about cangu. That place is fucked.. never will I Bali again ..
🤙
early ❤❤
Por que ele surfa de chapéu?
Because he would sunburn the top of his melon, he shaves his cabello 🍻