rescued his board from its maw, paddled over to us and joined Ford
in showing me things. One thing in particular I learned from
Freeth, namely, how to encounter the occasional breaker of
exceptional size that rolled in. Such breakers were really
ferocious, and it was unsafe to meet them on top of the board. But
Freeth showed me, so that whenever I saw one of that calibre rolling
down on me, I slid off the rear end of the board and dropped down
beneath the surface, my arms over my head and holding the board.
Thus, if the wave ripped the board out of my hands and tried to
strike me with it (a common trick of such waves), there would be a
cushion of water a foot or more in depth, between my head and the
blow. When the wave passed, I climbed upon the board and paddled
on. Many men have been terribly injured, I learn, by being struck
by their boards.

The whole method of surf-riding and surf-fighting, learned, is one
of non-resistance. Dodge the blow that is struck at you. Dive
through the wave that is trying to slap you in the face. Sink down,
feet first, deep under the surface, and let the big smoker that is
trying to smash you go by far overhead. Never be rigid. Relax.
Yield yourself to the waters that are ripping and tearing at you.
When the undertow catches you and drags you seaward along the
bottom, don't struggle against it. If you do, you are liable to be
drowned, for it is stronger than you. Yield yourself to that
undertow. Swim with it, not against it, and you will find the
pressure removed. And, swimming with it, fooling it so that it does
not hold you, swim upward at the same time. It will be no trouble
at all to reach the surface.

The man who wants to learn surf-riding must be a strong swimmer, and