So once again I found myself in one of those "how the heck did I get here?" situations. Cold and wet, I sat on my Sea Doo GTS waiting to ride across the channel to Catalina island in the annual Bert's Motorcycles Sea Blast. I was terrified, my mind racing and dreaming up scenarios of doom and despair.
"What if my boat breaks?" I asked myself.
"The Body Glove boat will pick you up, and take you to the island, bonehead!" was my reply, in the on-going debate between emotion and reason.
"What if I get lost?"
"Use the compass."
"What about sharks?"
"Don't fall off."
"What if I am too tired to ride all of the way?"
"Shut up and ride, wimp!"
It was useless to argue with myself. I was here, suited up, and on the water. There was no turning back. Any fears about being lost on the open ocean would just have to be met head on, at full throttle, with the wind in my face. Tony from Wet Enterprises assured me that my boat was prepped, with a fresh motor and a new prop. Dave, my buddy from Vision Design and the man responsible for talking me into doing these lunatic things, gave me a thumbs up.
"Blue group! Let's go!"
In a flash we were off. A couple dozen pint-sized boats blazing like comets across the murky green water, leaving trails of spray and foam. The wind was cold, and water shot off of other boats in icy bullets, stinging my chilled face. I looked around me and tried to choose a line with clean water and less spray. We seemed really close together, especially for how fast we were going and how rough the water was. I felt like I could hardly see, with water on my goggles and the dark fog hanging around us. I was tense, and held on for dear life as my boat careened wildly across the jagged water. I hadn't been on a Sea Doo since the last Bert's Sea Blast, and never on this boat. I was nervous, and it was taking it's toll. My heart raced, and I knew that I couldn't ride this tensed-up the whole way.
"Relax!" I screamed at myself, remembering how loosening up my shoulders always improved my riding. I tried to ease my grip and get comfortable, only to get hit hard by a wave and was nearly ejected! I needed to relax, yet somehow stay in control!
The group stopped for a while to wait for stragglers and double check our heading. I glanced at my compass and decided that we were going in the right direction. I also decided that under no circumstances did I want to get separated from the group! I vowed not to be a straggler, and get lost in the fog. Before I could catch my breath or put my compass down, the group was off again. With a sickening suddenness, they were blazing away from me. I wanted to quickly wipe the mist from my goggles and take off, but in doing so pulled the lanyard out from the ignition. I fumbled clumsily in the rocking ocean, trying desperately to put it back on. By the time I got the motor started the pack was disappearing on the horizon, and I was in a panic!
"Cripes!" I cried as I clamped the throttle down and raced at top speed towards my comrades. The water was really rough, and at full speed was chaotic! I felt like a cross between a cowboy riding a bucking bronco and a stadium motorcross rider! The boat was chattering across the waves, accompanied by the rush of the wind and the muffled roar of the motor. The chop was getting more predictable now, with small wakes covering the tops of the bigger swells. Suddenly, like a kid riding a bicycle, it all clicked again. I was having a ball! I was absorbing the rough stuff in my legs and powering over the water. If I timed it right I would get air off of the tops of the swells, landing with a loud thud on the next one. My trepidation was gone and I was in control of my craft. This was what the whole thing was about; Riding balls-out across the open ocean, full throttle and maximum adrenaline! Fear was gone, replaced by the rush of wind and heavy concentration. This was fun! This was literally a Sea Blast!
The group stopped and started a few times, but now I was at ease with this whole deal. Now my only concern was our navigation. Without the sun or any landmarks for bearings, I felt like we were riding in a giant circle. My compass reassured me that we were, for the most part, heading in the right direction. We blazed onward.
Then you could see it, the dark silhouette of the island before us. It popped suddenly out of the clouds, and by then we were so close it seemed gigantic. I was very happy to see land again, and gone were the "lost at sea" scenarios.
With the island in sight the pace turned into something more like a drag-race than a casual cruise! Everyone wanted clean water so we fanned out into a giant arrow, pointed towards the shore. The boats leaped across the swells at this pace, and the occasional mis-timed wave smashed me against the seat and knocked the wind out of me! I was sure the steering column would smack my teeth out, as my boat jumped wildly around beneath me. My whole body expanded and collapsed, trying to absorb the violent energy of the ride. The island grew larger before us, and my legs began to burn.
Then the group stopped for one last time. The clouds parted, and rays of sunshine lit our party. As we sat there, bobbing in the water, reading our compasses and debating our course, we were suddenly surrounded by a school of dolphins! Everywhere you looked, you saw only the shiny gray backs of "Flipper" and friends as they swarmed wildly around us. Then a few broke from the water, leaping higher than the rest, no doubt to catch a glimpse of us motoring oddities. They were pacific dolphins, with the familiar dolphin body shape but the black and white coloring of killer whales. They were beautiful, and despite their speed and number moved in absolute silence. Mesmerized, we sat and watched their playful antics until they vanished again. It was wonderful, if not a bit spooky!
We motored onward back towards Avalon. I thought I had completely lost my dolphin friends when I looked down and noticed that two of them were still racing along in front of my boat! I was amazed at how fast they could swim, and how little effort it looked like it took for them. They were so fluid and graceful that I felt like an idiot bouncing so clumsily along on my fiberglass toy. They were at home here in this aquatic universe, and I was nothing more than a visiting alien!
We made it to Avalon in nothing flat. What at times seemed like eternity was now over in a flash. I wanted to ski more, but experience and my aching body told me to take it easy. There was still the rest of the weekend to experience, including the big Bert's party, the food, the sites, and the people. The Bert's crew always put together a first-class package, and Catalina is a terrific place to visit. I wanted to make the most of my trip, so I docked my ski and moved on to land-based adventures. With my wet adventure over, the excitement and challenge of open-ocean skiing was gone, now just a memory. Well, at least until the next day when we skied across the channel again!
- sHaNe