Last Sunday, at the dreadful hour of 5 am, I was awoken by my eager brother quietly knocking on my bedroom door. I sat up in the darkness and briefly glanced at the clock resting on my nightstand: it read "4:58 a.m." Needless to say, I felt like a zombie. I tiptoe
d to the door to answer his beckoning knock and as the door cracked open he whispered "I'm making you breakfast, when do you want to go?" Normally, if someone awoke me at such an ubsurd hour, heads would roll... but this morning was different. I was driving my brother up the coast to catch the infamous hurricane swell he'd been waiting for all year. Hurricane Bill -just off shore- recently skirted up the coast producing a ground swell, creating big, clean, glassy surf. After wolfing down some scrambled eggs and a couple waffles, we loaded up the car, and proceeded north to Jensen Beach in Martin County. During the solid hour and a half drive, we blasted the radio (which amazingly was playing some awesome tunes at such an early hour) and we sang and danced in the car like a couple of crazy young kids. For the first time in at least 2 years, I felt like me and my brother were truly bonding. Around 6:30 a.m. the sky slowly commenced its transformation: from pitch black to a rich navy, and then to a violet purple with ribbons of pink and orange. The sun was rising from the horizon, and a new day was born. When we arrived at the beach, my brother scrambled out of the car and up the sand dune to assess the surf conditions. His blindingly bright smile was enough for me- I raced to the beach and witnessed for myself the reasons why surfers are addicted to waves and married to the sea.
After watching my brother and his bestfriend surf for a few hours, I decided to build up my courage and try it for myself. The waves- not quite as big as my brother anticipated (they were approximately 5-7 feet) looked absolutely beautiful. I knew I had to try surfing for myself. After donning a rash guard and attaching the leash to my ankle, I walked down the beach to the entry point. Once in the water, with trepidation I realized that the waves only appeared smaller fr
om the beach! My brother kept encouraging me to paddle hard to keep up. I could sense his nerves about me being crushed by white water. Thankfully, after pushing past the fire in my shoulders and the desire to give up, I MADE IT. I was "out back" with all the boys. Soon, the sets arrived with more consistency and the walls of water that crept up from behind appeared to grow bigger and bigger with each passing wave. I knew there was no way I would attempt to ride any of these waves, but I wanted to atleast catch one to perhaps "boogie-board" down. I remember looking behind me towards the horizon: the forceful energy of the ocean rapidly rushed towards me. This was it. I started paddling like mad, the wave began to pick me up- higher, higher, higher- and when I looked down to see the steep blue face, I stopped dead in my tracks. The monster passed me by and just like a playful knock on the chin, she slapped me with a little backspray. It was as if she was saying "Not this time!" I laughed out loud, and as the sun created a brilliant sparkle on the water, I fell even more in love. One must fully respect the ocean before you can become one with her. 
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