It had to be the foggiest day a man had ever seen. Despite the conditions, I still went in the water. I felt like I was going to die out in the bottomless water that day.
I was on my annual getaway to Oceanside, California. It was a green and tranquil place that I had attended since the day I was born. Every time I went, I always took pleasure in the sizzling sun and the frosty waves. My beloved thing to do there was boogey-boarding. I loved the rush of catching a huge wave and gliding into shore on it. This had been my favorite pastime for years. Boogey-boarding was what brought joy and risk to my life. It was all I really ever looked forward to.
On July 19, 2000, I made the worst decision of my life. I went into the ocean to go boogey-boarding when I couldn't see more than ten feet in front of me. At the time, I was quite young and oblivious to my parents and newscasters. They had given caveat to stay out of the water. I should've listened to them that day; I really should've. Instead, I went against them and started boogey-boarding out in the perilous waters. .
I hit my first wave. It was astonishing. I began to have so much fun, I wasn't even paying attention to anything but the large waves that rose one after another before my miniature little .
eyes. Greedy for the biggest I could find, I swam far far away. I adventitiously ended up past all .
Buckmaster 2.
the waves and in the treacherous surfing zone which ended on a long bank of rigid, colossal boulders. I then stopped sculling, gazed around me, and realized there was not a thing in sight. Sheer water was all I could see. An animosity for the ocean grew inside me. I began to panic. .
I paddled away all the might that lie within me in hopes of finding my savior, a wave. Eventually, effete, I gave up and rested on my boogey-board. I listened to the sound of the sea. Swish, swash, swish, swash is all I heard. I listened and watched my life flash before my eyes.
