Surfing stories

Ok, so as I was looking for the next wave to catch, momma shark all of a sudden came circling around my board. She was trying to explain to me that the last wave I was surfing on was a dangerous one, and I better never catch it again. Sticking her fin up in an utterly irritating, patronizing manner, she didn't notice how my hands got clutched tighter to fists with every word she spoke.

Momma shark didn't know the first thing about surfing. To her, all waves were identical, but anyone who spent some time in the swell knows that there are no two waves alike. The worst about her sad attempt to tell me what to do, was that she probably never got further than down these waters we were in.

She had no idea what it felt like to be out here in the sun, driven by the thrill of the rocking and rolling of these powerful horses, the waves. Oblivious to anything even remotely thrilling, she was hardly in the position of advising anyone who's trying to quit paddling and surf a little for a change. Regardless of the risk of hitting rock bottom.

Restraining myself I kept to my board, but after she swam away and that appalling fin of hers disappeared in the grey, troubled waters, I couldn't keep the anger inside anymore: I screamed so hard in all four directions of the wind that the clouds gathered above me and strikes of thunder joined in my song of desperation.

After getting some shut-eye I woke up, stranded. I was on a sandy beach, wet and wavey, uncovered by the withdrawing ocean just seconds ago. This was a tiny little island, hardly worth the name. Half of it was this beach, the rest was a bare rock the size of a fortress, that held a cave of which I could see the entrance from where I was standing. Other than that, nothing. No vegetation, no stream, no reason to stick around.

The cave intrigued me though.

I left my board down the rock and made my way up to the entrance. I enjoyed feeling steady ground under my bare feet and slowed down, looking and feeling for good spots to get a grip.  The ocean had left puddles here and there but putting my feet in them was not very appealing since I imagined the crawling life under their surface. I preferred testing the slippery stair-like angles and the higher I came, the harder and more intense the climb became. I was having fun at this.

I felt a melody gurgling up my throat, a common thing to happen whenever I intensely concentrate on something, but when I tried humming, all that came out was a hoarse whisper. I stopped in my track, trying to swallow away whatever kept me from singing. But my voice was gone. Slightly taken aback by this loss I fiercely continued my way up, more determined than ever to get at the cave.

What did I expect to find in there? Was I hoping for a sleeping dragon, a hidden treasure? A fairy to magically restore my voice? Did I even expect anything? Or was I simply playing out the scenario that had been written out in the stars and therefore in my cells, before there was even a hunch of my insignificant existence? Finding cave, going up to cave, exploring cave.  Who was I to try and get out of that inevitable stream of events?

After what seemed minutes but might as well have been hours, I reached the entrance. I couldn’t help but being a tad disappointed. At first glance there was only a rather small space, not even ten feet deep, and ten feet high at the most. But when my eyes wandered about the walls, they detected two small openings in the deep end.

Slowly I approached the two doorways to darkness. It seemed like I was crossing the mouth of the cave and preparing myself to go down its throat. I wasn’t sure which one to choose. Either way, the pitch black that awaited me was less than alluring, but once again my curiosity and the feeling that my inevitable fate was taking its course were stronger than my fear. A bat suddenly flew out of the right hole. The left hole it was.

The dim light of the so-called mouth fell into the tapered tunnel, so the ten first steps were easy. But when the tunnel started narrowing down and the darkness became thicker with every step I took, my insecurity became equally thick. How did I end up crawling down a completely obscure tunnel, not even knowing what I was heading for? With a slightly raised heart rate and ears and eyes wide open I continued.

I wasn’t too happy about moving bare feet in this unknown and dark place, God knows what kind of  hostile, venomous creatures were waiting to bite, spray or sting me. At the same time I was glad I wasn’t making any sound. From drops of water I heard falling, I could tell that the acoustics were pretty ruthless in here and sounds were to be heard from several dozens of yards away.  And I preferred surprising possible enemies to being surprised.

After a couple of minutes, I saw yellow glowing lights up the ceiling of the tunnel. A few more steps later it suddenly felt as if I were outside, under a starry sky. I figured this had to be a fairly big space, the ceiling covered with this funny phosphorescent moss-like vegetation. Across the room I distinguished three more openings that probably led to more tunnels and to more rooms like this.

I was about to cross the underground chamber when I got badly surprised by cold water touching my feet and ankles. As fast as it had come, it withdrew again. Squinting my eyes to make out the source of this water, I vaguely saw a gleaming ink stain in the middle of the cave floor, which had to be a well of some sort. When the stain had vanished into the floor there was a gurgling sound, resembling to what can be heard after draining the sink.

Next thing I knew, the pitch black stain became bigger with every blink of my eye and this time the dark water came knee-high. So far I had been able to contain my fear, to control it and be brave. So far, the curiosity had been stronger than the fear. Now panic was taking over.  The chill of the dark water was nothing in comparison with the chill of fear squeezing the life out of my heart.

Every hair on my body stood straight up, I stopped breathing and was unable to move for seconds. And then my survival mechanism came in motion. I turned around and hurried back into the tunnel that brought me here. The water was following me. After maybe a hundred yards it caught up with me, dragged me back, sucked me under and pushed me into the tunnel again.

Instead of trying to keep standing I tried swimming, scraping my elbows against the rough walls, frantically trying to keep ahead of the backward currents, eager to get to the entrance of this formerly fascinating rock that had just turned into a nightmare. By now the tunnel was practically filled to the ceiling with the jet black and freezing salt water. I realized that if I didn’t get out of here soon, I’d drown.

The pushing and pulling of the current was wearing me out. I took a last gulp of air from the inches of space not taken by the water, near the ceiling, and when the water pushed me towards the entrance of the cave I swam like a motherfucker, hoping to see the hole I had come through very soon. And yes, there it was! I could see light filtering through the damned water, a couple of more yards... I had to make it.

But all of a sudden the current stopped pushing me and started drawing me back. I was dragged all the way back into that godforsaken cave. Somewhere halfway the tunnel I passed out. I only regained consciousness when I bumped roughly into the wall of the underground chamber where the black well had become a dark, sullen lake.

By now the water had risen so high in here that I could almost touch the star-like fungus on the ceiling. How the hell was I going to get out of here? I was exhausted and couldn’t keep clinging to the wall much longer. On top of that the water kept rising, so I was trapped. Every couple of minutes I felt the downward force of the whirl, trying to pull me under towards the bottom of the lake.

I was tired of fighting. The darkness and the continuous movement of the water lulled me to a half-sleep. Their hypnotizing effect made me decide to let go of the wall, to let go of it all, to just sink and slide away into nothingness. The cave, the lake, the whirl. They meant nothing to me. It wasn’t exactly that I was ready to die, but rather like I was ready to face whatever... nothing seemed to matter anymore.

There and then I put my fate into Gods hands. I sank down to the bottom like an anchor cut loose. Soon enough I got caught by the whirl and swallowed by the well that now seemed to be a giant drain in a big, underground washbasin. I remember smiling at the idea that I was going down the drain, when a turbulence woke me from the initial calm and submissive state I was in.

And then the next thing I knew I surfaced, gasping for air. I was still alive. My reluctance to hold on, my refusal to keep trying, made me let go and that's what had saved me. In awe for the miracle that had just granted me the rest of my life, I watched the sun set in the ocean, and the sky behind the black outlines of the rock was painted red, purple and pink.

Exhausted I stretched out on the small beach, my arms and head resting on my surf board, and soon enough I drifted off into the arms of Morpheus. I was awakened by the tide that was coming up again. Curious to see what happened when the water rose, I paddled around to check out the mouth of the cave I had entered the day before.

Lighted by the gloomy moon the rock seemed angry. Humming to reassure myself didn’t work. My voice hadn’t found its way back into my throat yet. A waterfall started pouring out of the cave. That devilish tunnel had been turned into an aqueduct once again. I paddled all the way around to see if there were any other waterfalls but apparently there weren’t.

How was I gonna find out which secrets were hidden inside? I decided to go back in the next morning. I was gonna have to go in before the passage was dry, to make sure to have enough time to explore the other tunnels without risking my life again. I glanced up the waterfall in awe for its beauty and cruelty. See you tomorrow, I muttered, but silently the rock didn’t care to answer my greeting.

At the break of dawn I made my way back up to the cave. I didn’t try to hum, eager to enter the underground chamber I could only think of entering the chamber and nothing else. Minutes ago I had seen the waterfall weaken, and by the time I got at the cave mouth only a small stream flowed out of the tunnel. I rushed in, and using my hands and the meak shimmer of the moss on the ceiling I quickly arrived at the glimmering black, liquid heart of the rock.

The dark lake that awaited me was trying to tell me something. The water licking the cave walls had diminished enough to free the openings on the other side. Was the quiet splashing an invitation or a silent warning? Any lady familiar with the blues knows that only fools rush in. I hesitated to swim across the lake, my old phobia of dark waters hit me bad. What creatures were hiding underneath the surface? After surfing the seven seas I still couldn’t shake this irrationality off.

Trying to pull myself together and wishing I had taken my surfboard, my eye got caught by something in the water. It seemed to be a source of bluish light, but then it changed color and turned red, yellow, green and blue again. I couldn’t make out its size or how far under the surface this thing was. And then it was gone. I blinked and wondered if I had actually seen anything or if my fear was having my imagination run away with me.

For a second my heart stopped. Across the water someone was looking at me. Before I could do something he or she dove into the lake. I saw another flickering, the shape changed color and eventually disappeared. Seconds taking hours passed, me watching the dark water, puzzled and not knowing what the hell just happened. Where did this person go?

“Hey you.” A whispering, a silent shout, urging for me to listen carefully to whatever was coming next. But I still didn’t see anyone. The voice seemed to come out of nowhere. “Here!” It echoed all around me. It seemed to come from the tunnels across, or from behind me. I was lost, not knowing where to hide anymore. “Look, in the water”, it murmured. What I then saw before me was impossible.

The lake that seconds before had scared me with her dark, unpredictable waves had now turned into a shiny, solid floor. I saw myself gasping in it, as I tried to wrap my brain around this incredible transformation. Stretching out I slid my hands over the rock hard mirror. "I'm probably just dreaming again," I thought, "might aswell just go with it." And I stepped onto the shiney surface, carefully, expecting it to crumble under my feet any second.

I kept looking at my feet and my reflection, checking the icey floor for cracks or anything what might warn me for disaster. The distance to the safe tunnels got bigger with every little step I took. I noticed my reflection smiling but didn’t feel like smiling at all. And then it hit me: I wasn’t.

When I looked again, the girl in the mirror gave me a grin and the next second she wasn’t even there anymore. But I still was, or wasn’t I? How did this work? How could I lose track of my own reflection? Was the voice that I had heard earlier hers?  My head started spinning. I had to find her. How did I get on the other side of this mirror? 

And then I remembered why I came back inside of this wretched rock. I was looking for something, and it was only now I realised what exactly I was looking for: it was me. Only after years of pushing my limits in and on the ocean and almost drowning in this mysterious place, I had come to finally face myself. I knew now that me finding this place made sense.

I started running towards the other side of the dim space, where the tunnels that I was yet to explore were awaiting me. I hoped to be able to trace back  my reflection, or whomever it was that I had seen under the surface of the lake. There was light in the tunnels, there had to be a fire lit somewhere along their way. Surprised at my own courage, I swiftly moved towards the source of light.

Some fourty feet further the tunnel stopped, and I guessed this was where all the tunnels this side of the cave led to: another chamber, much smaller than the first one. There was a fire lit in the middle. The walls of this cave were painted with fairy creatures, women, men, animals I had never set eyes on in the real world. The figures seemed to dance in the light of the fickle flames.

Not questioning the fire and who could have lit it there, I admired the fascinating wallpaintings. They seemed to beckon me, suck me in, my eyes wandering frantically from one scene to another. One of the characters seemed to appear more in the pictures than others: a woman with long, flowing cupper colored hair, small blue snakes twirling around her arms and legs. 

She looked strangely familiar. Were she and the girl under the mirror one and the same? What was this place? The questions were piling up in my painfully pounding head. I was tired and hungry, and stuck in a cold and godforsaken cave. I didn't know if I was supposed to be scared or just angry with myself for being so stubborn and stupid. That entire going with the flow-practice was turning out far from fun.


I turned my back on the paintings and approached the fire to warm my hands. I got the strong impression I was being watched. Was I followed by that snake lady’s gaze? When I turned around to check if anyone was behind me, a little girl coming out of nowhere was standing there watching me. She held a small dagger in her chubby hands and the first thing that came to my mind was why a little girl like that would be carrying around a dangerous weapon.

I wanted her to give it to me and surprisingly she didn’t even object to it. She willingly handed it over, using both hands to carefully place the dagger in my palms, and I couldn’t help but wonder where  the hell the girl came from. Was this some sort of ritual? A cold breeze made the fire flicker and I shivered. Despite the fire this cave was humid and chilly and the cold blade of the knife in my hands made my skin cringe.

To be continued...