Following warrior path of Kai Lenny, Billy Kemper, Ian Walsh, brave surf journalist dusts off gun and paddles into menacing jaws of “historic” swell!

Fortune favors the bold.

The text came in early from a great friend. “Just dropped kid at beach summer camp. D Street is cranking.” And just like that, history had arrived on my very doorstep. As you are well aware, that same history has been lashing the Hawaiian Island chain’s south facing shores. Videos emerging of two-story condominiums getting completely barreled, weddings washed away, much wailing and gnashing of teeth as the largest south swell in decades steamed in from the deep.

18 – 24 foot faces.

678 – 986 foot Surfline.

Our heroes, wearing names like Kai Lenny, Billy Kemper, Ian Walsh, though, were undaunted, took the bigger boards and treated the world to a spectacular spectacular.

Inspiring.

And so I got out of bed, knowing that D Street was cranking, wondering if my spine would be steeled enough.

Thankfully, as a recently transitioned biathlete, I’d been both surfing and running and hoped my body could take it as local San Diego newspapers were whispering of possible 8 foot sets. No telling how many Surflines.

I waited for the tide to dip, dropped by daughter off at ballet intensives then headed to the garage and carefully slid my 6’10 Channel Islands gun from the racks.

Breathing heavy.

Not wanting to overthink, I had decided to surf out the front, wandered down, hopped the tracks, scampered across the Pacific Coast Highway and studied the carnage. Lines of whitewater stretching from Swamis down to the Cardiff Reef.

No mercy.

I closed my eyes, thought of Kai Lenny, Billy Kemper, Ian Walsh and, then and there, decided to etch my name alongside theirs in the annals.

The water was warm, due the southern nature of the swell, and I regretted my 2 mil short-arm almost immediately though was also quietly thankful for the buoyancy it would give me and the mental security it might provide.

My wetsuit of armor.

The paddle was lightly tiring, as I had to duck dive four or five waves, but then I was in a lineup that hadn’t been so thin in months. Just five hellmen alone together.

One was on a single-fin Lightning Bolt, crimson and yellow.

Most of the sets were closing out but I managed to claw into a left, towering frightfully above my shoulder, and looked over its feathering lip to see if my comrades had seen it too.

Kai Lenny, Billy Kemper, Ian Walsh, Chas Smith.

History.