Proof The Bible Is True

October 30, 2012. high tide. Calm offshore winds. Clean six-foot waves. A beautiful morning to surf. I stood on the north jetty at the entrance to Humboldt Bay and gazed out at the ocean. Shore birds flew in formation, almost shimmering in the sunlight.

 

I loved being out here in nature, in touch with something greater than myself.

 

There were maybe 20 guys already in the water at Bunkers, where waves break on a sandbar just north of the jetty. I watched them for a while, gauging the temperament of the ocean before zooming in on the perfect spot.

 

A little farther than usual, but hey, why not? I had my new insulated, hooded Xcel wet suit to protect me from the chill. I pulled it on, grabbed my short board and hit the water, letting the current take me out.

 

I bypassed the ankle busters and paddled to where the waves break deep, about 500 yards from shore. I surfed good A-frames for an hour and a half. Then I caught three in a row, putting me some distance down the beach from everyone else. Sweet.

 

By then the 20 boarders had dwindled to 10. Just one more wave and then I’ll go in too, I thought. I paddled all the way back out.

 

Out of the corner of my left eye, I glimpsed a black shadow beneath the surface of the water. Probably a harbor seal. When I moved here to California’s North Coast, six months earlier, I noticed the large population of seals.

 

Read More: A Heaven-Sent Wave, Perfectly Timed – Guideposts