My wild surfing adventure in Samoa
The outboard motor coughed, spluttered, then died as the anchor was thrown overboard. For 10 minutes, we had motored along the shoreline as we searched for the perfect spot to go surfing in Samoa.
Silence descended around the small rubber boat as the first line of the swell marched in across the open expanse of water before our eyes.
From the deep blue trough, the first wave began to rise. Slowly building in height as the swell met the shallow coral seabed. As the lip of the wave folded over to crash into a churning blue and white foam, a cheer from one of the guys was quickly swallowed by the deafening roar reaching our tiny boat floating in the safety of the channel.
Diving into the crystal clear blue water, still chilled from the night, I threw back my head and eyed up the surfing takeoff spot.
Fresh surfboard wax clung to my torso as I paddled closer to the only spot you could launch from. My fingers felt as if they would scrape on the razor-sharp shallow coral-filled water below.
I was glad I was wearing my thick-soled rubber surfing booties for when I would have to stand on those same jagged corals inevitably.
Squinting into the rising sun, I tried to gaze through the glare. Every ripple danced across the ocean surface and glistened from the early morning sunshine.
As the first swell pushed underneath my shortboard, I could feel the power tugging at my legs beneath the surface. Each wave is ready to throw itself against the coral seabed and dash its beautiful form into a churning mess.
It gives a surfer only a few seconds to pounce to their feet to grasp onto an unforgettable experience.
Pointing my surfboard back towards the beach, I dipped my arms in. The swell reached my toes.
Once, twice, three times, I stroked. My muscles coiled inside as my board became as light as a feather. It was now that I had to spring.
Planting my rubber-covered feet and grabbing the outside rail of my surfboard, I leaned against the rushing wall of water. The power of the wave threatened to tear me from my stance and throw me onto the coral reef just 2 feet below the surface.
A fall that would not leave me unscathed.
The surfboard bucked once as I found my balance. As the wave pitched higher, I tried desperately to coax more speed out of the surfboard.
A shadow loomed over my left shoulder before pitching down over my right. The barrel of the wave fits perfectly over my hunched torso. My eyes fixed on the safety point just a few short seconds away.
Bursting into the sunlight, I ripped one last turn with a glance behind. A grin split my face as I realized I had done it. I had pushed my limits and succeeded.
I was surfing in Samoa.
A ride of a lifetime.