Dave Terry Photography

It’s impossible to imagine our worst nightmares, until they become experience. Most of us don’t know our truest fears, until they appear. Our deepest terror is beyond our grasp. Our emotions remain hidden in a well of nightmares, until we fall in.

I’m a pioneer. There’s no other name for what I am. When something new comes along, I enjoy trying it and if I like it, I learn the skills well enough to impress those who inspire myself, then, I write about those people, experiences, or places.

I started as a surfer inspired by people who surfed in Hawaii. By the time I turned 40 years old, I’d travelled from London to Lagos, Nigeria, alone, looking for the perfect wave. I surfed on waves which few humans will ever see, or can imagine. As a pioneer, surfing adventures were exciting and adventurous and lead me into the depths of both heaven and hell. It's the hardest sport in the world. If you don't believe me, ask Laird Hamilton.

Later, as I grew older, I pioneered sailboarding and become a professional. By 1983, I'd surfed all over the world and most of the time, I was by my self in some very dangerous situations. Finally, in '83, I moved to the Island of Maui where the watersports thrive. I rode waves larger than three stories high and sat many days a quarter mile out at sea, alone. But in twenty years, I’d never been in a situation like the one I experienced while learning to kiteboard. And, in all honesty, I’ve never experienced this type of fear.

When some good friends invited me to join them on a downwind kite flying adventure over the surf and thru the rocks with several of the early pioneers of the new sport, I was ready for the adventure. There were no rules and the only direction we could go was down wind. We were pioneers and we'd drive upwind, then launch our kites and race downwind for 5 miles. 'Grab your kite and go', was the order of the day. The conditions were extreme. It would be fun.

The wind was gusting to thirty five mph which enlightened small pebbles and threw them down the sandy beaches, over the edges of Ho’okipa Beach hillside. We arrived at Ho'okipa in time to see our heros, Eliot and Lou take off. Everything was going just dandy when we launched. Butterflies fluttered inside our souls, behind wide and darting eyes. Terror was everywhere and the vibes at Ho'okipa were like a crew of fully geared skydivers entering a commercial airline flight, holding loaded guns.

Eliot and Lou were pros, so they launched in the thirty five knot gust as we watched and prepared for the experience. They were cautious as they edged out past the rocks and then started boosting 30 foot leaps into the air and throwing their bodies into aerial spins and forward rolls, flying over the mast of the sailboarders. We were quiet and cautious as we launch kites which could drag us into the air and hang us on powerlines with one mistake.

Several others launched and then my friend helped me before launching himself.

We were having a great time, flying in and out of the surfline, off the tops of the fifteen foot peaks and into the sky for what seemed eternity. One by one, the other kites disappeared down the coast. I was, heading out and down wind, having an amazing adventure. I started dropping into the fifteen foot high waves of Outer Sprecks, but saw giant swells breaking on the outside, at Spartan Reef which is about a mile out at sea. I sailed farther out. I was in tune with the kite, board and waves. Fearlessly the fool steps into the unknown.

While riding up the face of one peaking swell, I body slammed an entire folding white waterfall and was pulled underwater through the back of the wave. Before I recovered, the kite slammed to the surface. I popped up and relaunched...but the bridle and strings were tangled and the kite turned inside out. The kite slammed the surface in the thirty knot gust, like a marlin, leaping on the end of my line.

When this happened, I had a reel which is no longer used by kiteboarders. But, I enjoyed it as the devise allowed me to launch and recover, alone. With a reel, I could wind the lines in, where I could turn the kite inside out again and relaunch. I start reeling and swimming toward the kite. The lines were 90 feet long and it took some time with the little handle spinning the reel. As I kicked my feet, the board attached to one leg, pulled on the board. It was hitting me in the head as I kicked.

Normally, when out at sea in the Pacific, looking down into the deepest blue you've ever seen can be very disturbing to almost anyone. It’s like you’re floating in the sky and not natural. But to be doing this when you are alone, a mile out at sea, on a two meter board with a cute yellow kite, well, this is what makes the pioneering experience an adventure. I was reeling and kicking and the stupid board was on a cord which was too short. The board hit my head with every kick of my left foot.

By the time I reeled and kicked to the kite, I was ready to spit venom, or sink the board on the cord, forever. I swore at the board and even lost my temper and hit it’s hard fiberglass. With the reel, the tiny cork of a board was useless. It could not be paddled and wouldn't float well enough to sit on. It was just a useless tool hitting my head. I became frustrated and annoyed.

Then, I had the idea to pull the cord up to my knee, so it would not hit my head when my feet kicked. Looking down into the deep blue, I opened my eyes expecting to see the dark blue of the depths below.

At first, I thought I could see a green shadow from the kite reflected in the bubbles. But when I looked down, there was no deep blue. Something moved me and fear leaped from the depths of my soul. I grabbed a breath and looked again. My heart was racing for no apparent reason. The tiny bubbles from my feet appeared to have a shadow in the gray of my water filled eyes. These bubbles curved into the darkness of an unfamiliar gray. Fear engulfed every pore of my body. I kicked for the surface and the board slammed into my head as I took a breath. I screamed a kind of stupidly terrified yell, underwater, as I peered into the bubbles to confirm what I knew and didn't want to experience as real. The scream felt like a whimper.

In thirty years of being in the water almost every day, I've only seen open ocean sharks three times. What came out of the bubbles was the head of a ten foot WIDE Tiger shark. It's fist sized eye looked right into my own and for the first time in my life, I looked eye to eye with death. Suddenly, the largest thing I’ve ever seen, underwater, shook it's entire body like a dog shakes water from is fur. It's back quirked up and the softball black eye remained on mine as I was buffeted by the waves of it's enormous mass. It was the feeling of being inside an earthquake. Waves pass through you and they propagate outward, as you realize you are a part of a giant wave. But the eye remained fixed on mine, while bile raced to my mouth and my bowels released.

The force of the eye’s glare was like the muzzle eye of a forty five on a dark night. I shuddered and gasp for air climbing onto the headbonker board like it was the last step out of hell. My fear disappeared and became terror. "I am not going to die like this." I said to myself, as I realized why a mouse will just look at you and not move when it is caught by your sight. Fear is a force and a weapon and this thing, breathing water through a filter of teeth, knew exactly how to create fear in my tiny shaking body. I lifted my head and gasp for air, life and God’s grace.

I tried to stop shaking and yet my curiosity of absolute disbelief compelled me to look again below the surface. There, not twenty feet from my soft white flesh was a creature which could gobble up a 500 lb tuna like an appetizer. . It was watching every move I made and turned so it's eye could remain on mine. I looked at the grace of it and tried to show my respect.

"I am not going to die like this." screamed my thoughts.

It watched, then fell in to the deep blue, gliding silently down. I had to breath. It's confidence was nauseating. By it's violent shaking, I knew it was not at all happy with me and was most likely, gaining inertia to aim at it's victim. I lost control and became a shaking body of blubbering insignificance.

This was when the reality of my situation was like some wise old man shaking his head at my ignorance, saying, "I told you so." I was about to be lunch for papa shark and all his grandchildren living in the depths below. The surfzone and whitewater was several hundred yards inside and the kite wouldn't fly until I could turn the kite inside out. Trying not to get upset, or kick, or throw up, I flew the kite into the air and it slammed back to the surface. But it pulled me forward like a troll. This sparked my confidence.

At this point I figured the animal would go for the board, or my feet, but there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it. I pulled the board under me and lifted my feet into the air trying to get myself on the board. I flew the kite inside out, into the air and it slammed back to the water. The kite’s pull trolled me along.

Thoughts were of how it would feel to be eaten, not what I would do. Would I feel the bones breaking? Would it eat me until I was dead, or would I have time to feel the animal shaking me like a rag doll in a mad pit bull’s mouth? Maybe it would just play with me for a while, ravage me in chunks at will. I tried to be calm, but shudders were quaking inside my body. Violent uncontrollable shudders, impossible to control. The predator was stalking me and would try to hit before I escaped in the bubbles of the waves.

In my desperation, I flew the kite up, slammed it down on the water, then re-launched. I slammed it onto the water again and it bounced back up as I concentrated on flying it back upward. Slamming the kite was my defense. I continued hammering the kite on the surface in the direction of the surf until I felt a swell become a wave and lift me. I used the kite to pull me as fast as possible downwind, trolling my soft flesh.

In a few moments, in the unknown safety of the surfzone, I became more calm. Correcting the bridle, turning the kite inside out, I re-launched the kite, lifted my body onto the board, then escaped from that ungodly experience. It was the home of my worst fears and I had ventured into the lair of the giant. Alone, empty, no longer the confident pioneer who adventures forth as if protected, I escaped.

Now, some time has past and I’ve found new paths and fears. Daily, I realize I am alive and will never forget the monster looking me in the eye with intent to kill, nor the uncontrollable shaking, the loss of control and the confidence which took me to this place . Once again, something greater than myself gave me another day. “Thank God!”, I say.

What I learned from this experience was; other creatures in the sea are very aware of their area. As ocean police, sharks are most aware. It's not how you swim which impresses a killer, but how you act. I swore at the board and even lost my temper. I screamed and this violent act attracted the attention of a local. You don’t yell at the policeman.

When fools walk into a gangland and start mouthing off about anything at all,they are watched and observed by every living creature within earshot. They prey on this ignorance.

I wrote this story because it was, very simply, an experience which will be with me forever. I'm grateful to be here. And what greater thing than to be able to tell someone you are still here and grateful to all things greater than yourself. I have to add, that I've been a christian since I was a child and have always had faith in knowing that what ever happens to me, will be God's will. I can only pray, you will know this truth when you fall into the well of your deepest fears.