Just got off the phone with my good friend and surf bud Mike. Haven't heard from him for awhile, nor have I seen his surfmobile in Dogland on my surf adventures. After speaking with him just now, all I can say is "WOW!"

Turn back the calendar. Where were you on Mavericks Saturday? I know where I was. Now I know where Mike was too. As he told me today: "I endured a life threatening situation." This doesn't even come close to describing the events of that Saturday morning. Here's the first hand account, in Mike's words. His experience and description is so rich and full, that it spans two columns. Click back to these Chronicles next week for part 2.

"When I was 5 years old, my mom bought me a porcelain statue of Saint Michael. She said he was my Guardian Angel and I slept with it on my nightstand every night. Since I was about 15 years old, I have managed to get myself in at least a half dozen life threatening situations. Seems that one happens about every 5 years. My latest one happened Saturday morning on February 13. St. Michael was definitely watching over me during this one.

"I loaded my 8'2" gun the night before into my truck, knowing the swell was going to be big Saturday morning. Normally I don't sleep well the night before a big surf, but that night I got in about 6 hours of sleep. I woke up at 4:30 am and listened to the buoys. Monterey was 15' 17 sec and Half Moon Bay was 17' 17 sec. The swell was super west, like 295 degrees, a very dangerous angle for north of town. Regardless, I made up my mind to surf my favorite break and found myself standing alone at the beach in a sea of heavy fog by 6:20 am.

"Even though the fog was super thick, it had that look to it like it would burn off quickly. I couldn't see much past the shorepound which was not all that bad. I suited up and paddled out alone around 6:45 am. The current from the creek usually puts you in about the middle of the beach, which makes for a long paddle up to the point where the wave breaks. Somewhere in the middle of the beach I got hammered by a big left and dove for the bottom. I climbed my leash back up and figured I got pushed even further south, so I started a long paddle outside and to the north towards the point.

"Instead of getting better, the fog started getting much worse and thicker. There was no way I could see the shore, the cliffs, or even the sets coming towards me. I figured I would paddle north until I saw the normal jump off rock at the point, then I would be in position to ride one in. I kept paddling north in the fog and could not believe that I did not see the jump off rock yet. I figured I must have been pushed way south and it would come into view any minute.

"I paddled north for what seemed like 20 minutes when I figured something was not right. I decided to paddle in towards shore and get my bearings again. I started paddling in and figured any minute I would see the creek mouth and the beach. When I finally got to where I could see land, I could not believe it. I saw 30 foot tall vertical cliffs with a slippery rock ledge in front of them. This was totally unfamiliar to me, but I quickly figured it out. I had paddled too far outside and overshot the point without seeing it. I figured I was at least 1/2 mile north of the surf break in no-man's and.

"This is where things went horribly wrong for me. I knew I was too far inside; immediately a solid 15-17' set hammered on top of me and dragged me straight in front of the rock ledge. I knew there was no paddling back outside through the walls of white water behind it so I decided to get up onto the rock ledge and take my chances there. I scrambled up onto the ledge and up to the face of the vertical cliff. There was no way up the cliff but, there was no time to think either. The next set hammered the ledge, knocked me off my feet, and dragged me back down the ledge and into the churning water in front of the rocks. I scrambled back up onto the ledge and tried to cling on to any cracks I could find to keep from being dragged back into the water. No luck, the next wave hammered me so hard it actually pushed me face first into the cliff face, then dragged me back down off the ledge and into the churning water in front of the ledge. This time the water rushing off the ledge was so strong it actually sucked me down underwater in front of the rocks. I surfaced and saw another 15-17' set about to unload on me right in front of the rocks.

"Many thoughts rushed through my head the moments before that set unloaded in front of me. At first, I thought of how sad my three kids would be once they realized they would never see their dad again. Then I thought of my best friend Dave who was killed in a boating accident about 15 years ago when he was commercial fishing by himself. I thought this must be how he felt, being alone and ready to die in the sea."

Click back next week for part two of this scary and exciting account from Mike.

CU Out There,

DogMan