To wipeout here meant millions of tons of water grinding your flesh into coral rock and lava. And if you recovered, it meant being sucked far out to sea as the next gigantic wave built itself up. Loose boards were like floating knifes, the fins could gut a man like a fresh-caught fish being cleaned. But Bill knew that once you were up there, once you had the wave judged just right, the ride in was the sweetest, most powerful feeling there was.
Patrick Morgan, Hang Dead Hawaiian Style (1969)