The Bob Chronicles

This is the first of Bob's chronicles. He also sent us these pictures. Enjoy...

When I passed Ho’okipa the waves were huge. The wind was light but I felt encouraged that it would be stronger down at Spreckelsville. The weeks of rain had left my driveway in Haiku a muddy mess and I was filled with "cabin fever". I thought, "Finally an opportunity to get in some wave sailing and work off all of that eating."

This time of year at the beach is my favorite. At Sprecks, Drew and the others were tired, having already been out for hours. I rigged a 4.5 and noticed when I hit the water, nobody else was sailing Uppers. The waves which usually broke on the two reefs appeared to be breaking everywhere.

The surf was larger than I had realized, but since I was never scared at Sprecks
like I am sometimes at Hookipa, I was feeling pretty good. I did some reaches, jumped a couple and made some turns. Then the stuff hit the fan. I was caught inside a mast-high plus bomber and my timing was bad. It was too late to turn, jump or get around the shoulder. When I tried to pop over I went backwards over the falls and my rig was stripped from my hands. I swallowed water and fought for breath. My heart was pounding when I saw my board was way down wind and still going.

My experience told me to try to remain calm but the next wave was breaking and when I went to dive below it threw me over backwards. This time I sucked in more salt water and felt dizzy. My swimming and resolve were weakening and as I headed downwind for my board I realized that it was more important to save my energy for the next wave. While I was swimming to reach my board another set coming through gently picked it up and dropped it even farther away.

I was scared being so close to the beach yet so out of control. Then there was another sailor who seemed to materialize from nowhere. Riding a slalom board with a speed sail in this big surf, he still looked like he was out for a Sunday drive. He told me, "Grab my footstrap and I’ll tow you!" A couple of minutes later I was back with my board and out of trouble. He asked if I was alright now and I nodded my thanks.

I held on to my flotation and let the waves wash me across the reef and into shore. I may have drowned if I hadn’t received the help. The news later told of an experienced surfer missing that day. Jim Broach (45) of Oahu was presumed drowned by a set at Phantoms estimated by his peers at 25 foot. When I later thanked the sailor who towed me, he said, "I only hope someone would do the same for me."

So, unlikely as it is, if you ever see world champion speed sailor Eric Beale in trouble out there, please help him. On a sunny Maui winter day that I will long remember, he came to my aid and saved my life.

Robert "Mystery Bob" Gilbert