Day 3 was pretty much the same as day 2, which was fantastic, more sun, more surfing and more relaxing with the cool folk from the camp. The swell had picked up and was pumping at overhead to 1ft overhead on some sets. Chad and I headed off to a spot west of Macumba and attempted a pretty heavy beach break in strenthening swell. After we both caught a couple of waves we realised it was probably best (and safest) for us both to paddle in and attempt somewhere a little less heavy. The set waves were coming through pretty thick, all pretty much close-outs with 4-6ft faces and fat walls. Chad managed to get one into the beach, whilst I was waiting for the right wave.

A big set then came through, and I had nowhere to go, I was too far inside to be able to paddle over the wave and the wave was already breaking so I couldn’t duck dive. I abandoned my board and dived as deep under the wave as possible. I could feel the power and turbulance of the wave shake my body, coupled with my leg rope pulling on my leg. I got through the first wave, breaching the surface to catch a big breath, only to look up to see an even bigger set wave about to break on my head. I repeated the process again, diving down as deep as I could, resurfacing to catch a breath only to be greeted by another monster. This continued about 5 times and by the 3rd wave I was getting pretty tired. The thing is with the whole process is you get progressively more tired as each wave passes. So by the time I copped the 5th wave in the set on my head I was ready to be pulled from the water.

I managed to get through the set and swim in a little through the whitewash. Eventually I stumbled up the beach and collapsed on the sand completely exhausted, but kinda exhilirated from the experience. I don’t think I was in any danger of dying, but I came pretty close to having someone else having to jump into the water to come and drag me out. All part of another day in the life of a Rio surfer, haha!

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