he must be used to going under the water. After that, fair strength
and common-sense are all that is required. The force of the big
comber is rather unexpected. There are mix-ups in which board and
rider are torn apart and separated by several hundred feet. The
surf-rider must take care of himself. No matter how many riders
swim out with him, he cannot depend upon any of them for aid. The
fancied security I had in the presence of Ford and Freeth made me
forget that it was my first swim out in deep water among the big
ones. I recollected, however, and rather suddenly, for a big wave
came in, and away went the two men on its back all the way to shore.
I could have been drowned a dozen different ways before they got
back to me.

One slides down the face of a breaker on his surf-board, but he has
to get started to sliding. Board and rider must be moving shoreward
at a good rate before the wave overtakes them. When you see the
wave coming that you want to ride in, you turn tail to it and paddle
shoreward with all your strength, using what is called the windmill
stroke. This is a sort of spurt performed immediately in front of
the wave. If the board is going fast enough, the wave accelerates
it, and the board begins its quarter-of-a-mile slide.

I shall never forget the first big wave I caught out there in the
deep water. I saw it coming, turned my back on it and paddled for
dear life. Faster and faster my board went, till it seemed my arms
would drop off. What was happening behind me I could not tell. One
cannot look behind and paddle the windmill stroke. I heard the
crest of the wave hissing and churning, and then my board was lifted
and flung forward. I scarcely knew what happened the first half-
minute. Though I kept my eyes open, I could not see anything, for I