Ghost Wave - Chris Dixon [14]
Another half hour’s paddling gave a view around the island’s eastern flank. The black dome transitioned more smoothly down to a flatter plateau whose shoulders then slumped toward the ocean. The island swept southward, perhaps a half day’s walk in length, with another dark mesa looming halfway down. A broad, sandy beach ran along most of the shoreline below low cliffs of blond sandstone. But there would be no landing here. The beach was blanketed with miles of angry, bloody male elephant seals, each battling for a small roosting spot. The waters here swarmed with shark, barking fur seals, and dive-bombing eagles and pelicans. The men paddled back around the dome and through the shallows along the island’s north end. Perhaps they could find a protected landing along the western flank.
Yet the entire western shoreline was being pummeled by closely spaced, rugged breaking waves. The swell was not very big, only a few feet, but it would be impossible to tell how high the breaking waves actually were until you were in front of them. And once there, you were committed to a shoreward course. It was duly noted that the lowest stretches of land were covered with beautiful dunes that bore little vegetation. This meant regular scouring winds and perhaps an ocean that occasionally washed clear over the lowest stretches of beach. The scouts could probably bring their Ti’at in through the surf just ahead, as there were no elephant seals, but it seemed too risky. With only two boats, losing one in the surf would be a disaster.
It was by now midday, and they paddled far enough offshore to partake of a meal. They discussed their situation and what they’d seen, bobbing together in the waves. This island clearly held the promise of clothing and trade in otter and fur seal, protein in the form of plentiful swimming ducks. The confluence of warm and cold waters between the eastern and western shoreline surely promised epic battles with swordfish and perhaps bluefin tuna. It was agreed they would return to these islands, but with more boats and men. They should land on the more protected leeward shore when the elephants had returned to the ocean. For now, it was best to paddle back to the protected side and its warmer waters for the paddle home before the fog rolled back in. It had been burned back by the sun but hovered in an impenetrable, wraithlike line about a mile offshore.
Rounding the northwestern edge of the black dome of rock, the Ti’at began to rise and fall almost imperceptibly over undulations that took nine long breaths to pass—a new swell. These waves ran fast and deep but didn’t break. Strong eddies began to swirl beneath them. This water was too shallow.
The men turned to paddle straight offshore, but they battled thick mats of kelp and a northerly current grown stronger with the rise of swell and drop of tide. The old raven perched on the bow of the lead boat, crowing orders at men who now rowed as if their lives depended on it. A new line of slate gray lumps surged in from the fog. The first steepened sharply, but rolled beneath the canoes without breaking. At its summit, tentacles of kelp released their grip, enabling faster paddling. The second wave was even bigger. The raven took to the sky, calling encouragement.
Both teams sprinted to get over it. The elder pilots of the first canoe were outflanked by the younger scouts of the second. The wave formed a terrifying ridgeline, yet both Ti’at had a good head of steam. They powered up a near-vertical face as tall as three boats stood end to end. A gale of mist blew off the wave’s back, drenching the men and producing the curious sound of a rainstorm on a still pond. White water erupted in their wake. A third wave came, more massive still. The young scouts paddled with all their might as the wave crested, and they uttered great war whoops as their bow crashed down safely on the backside. Breathless with fear, they turned to urge on their elders. But the other boat was gone. Three more waves came, each bigger than the last.
When the waves subsided, the terrified scouts made