| The Battle Essay, Research Paper
The Battle
The ground beneath the adolescent s feet rumbled as the massive surf crashed violently onto the rocks beneath him. He was gripping tightly onto the surfboard under his arm, his dark green eyes scanning the rows of whitewater that stood before him like lines of soldiers, impenetrable. Clouds of sea spray whipped at his face sticking long black hair to the sides of his face. He took one last look at the murky green torrent, before throwing himself over the edge of the mighty white cliff, the only obstacle that lay between him and his destiny. For what felt like an eternity the boy fell. Mighty black locks streamed from his head. Splash! Surrounded by the water he now felt safe and secure like a child being embraced by its mother. The mission that lay before him now became evident. Scrambling to his board the determined youngster began his paddle.
To him this was the day that he had been waiting his whole life for the day when he would see what he was really made of and prove to his friends once and for all that he was the best at his beloved sport. But it was more than a sport to him, it was his passion. He lived for the ocean. And today more than any other he felt glad to be alive and privileged to witness this one in a lifetime event.
For hours on end he battled with the great tyrant, mother earth pounding him with set after set of relentless attacks. Still the boy refused to give up. His lungs and nostrils burned like nothing he had ever felt before. Arms feeling like they had lead weights attached to them. He began to believe his efforts were futile. Maybe these massive waves were supposed to remain unconquered. Just as all seemed lost, she relented. The booming thunder that filled the bay before abruptly became a dull hiss. The surfer knew that this was going to be his only chance. It was like finding a fifth gear in a four-speed transmission. With fists thrashing at the surface of the water spattering driblets into his eyes, stinging them like acid. He continued
Before long he was out in the calm open water, lying still gasping for breath.
Upon the horizon three or four giant walls of liquid loomed. The petrified surfer was quick to notice sending his whole body into a fit of fear. He paddled for his life. So intense was the rush of adrenalins to his system he could almost feel the air around him. Every part of his body tingled. It became apparent that he would be cleaned up by the monstrous waves.
Amazingly he managed to get over the first three waves, but just barely. The fourth wave in the set was another story all together. It towered three fold taller than all of the waves that had been witnessed that day. It sucked all of the water in the small bay up like when you let the plug out of the bath. Rocks on the sea bottom rolled around like marbles. You could literally hear the wave coming; a shrill rasping noise. Right square in the middle of its path sat the terrified boy. Feeling like a grain of sand in the Sahara Dessert. Images of limbs scattered over the rugged rock flashed through his mind for a brief second but he refused to pay them any attention, pushing them to the darkest realms of his head.
He somehow knew that this wave was intended for him. He started to stroke his way towards the shore; the complete opposite direction any rationally thinking person would be going. But the surfer wasn t listening to his mind. He was listening to something deep inside of himself, a strange gut instinct. The power of the wave hit him from behind like a freight train. No longer was the boy propelling the board through the water. Now the wave was in control. The surfer was merely a passenger along for the ride. The face of the wave became vertical as the lip pitched behind its passenger. The boy s board cut through the water like a hot knife through butter. For an instant the lad had no fear at all he just lost himself in the moment. The wave reared up like a wild beast. Swallowing the boy up viciously, shaking, spinning the boy into shore before spitting him out onto the rocks.
A sharp crack went up his body. A searing pain came flowing from his leg. Coughing and spluttering the washed up body made its way ashore. A small grin sneaked its way onto the youngster s face.
The Battle
The ground beneath the adolescent s feet rumbled as the massive surf crashed violently onto the rocks beneath him. He was gripping tightly onto the surfboard under his arm, his dark green eyes scanning the rows of whitewater that stood before him like lines of soldiers, impenetrable. Clouds of sea spray whipped at his face sticking long black hair to the sides of his face. He took one last look at the murky green torrent, before throwing himself over the edge of the mighty white cliff, the only obstacle that lay between him and his destiny. For what felt like an eternity the boy fell. Mighty black locks streamed from his head. Splash! Surrounded by the water he now felt safe and secure like a child being embraced by its mother. The mission that lay before him now became evident. Scrambling to his board the determined youngster began his paddle.
To him this was the day that he had been waiting his whole life for the day when he would see what he was really made of and prove to his friends once and for all that he was the best at his beloved sport. But it was more than a sport to him, it was his passion. He lived for the ocean. And today more than any other he felt glad to be alive and privileged to witness this one in a lifetime event.
For hours on end he battled with the great tyrant, mother earth pounding him with set after set of relentless attacks. Still the boy refused to give up. His lungs and nostrils burned like nothing he had ever felt before. Arms feeling like they had lead weights attached to them. He began to believe his efforts were futile. Maybe these massive waves were supposed to remain unconquered. Just as all seemed lost, she relented. The booming thunder that filled the bay before abruptly became a dull hiss. The surfer knew that this was going to be his only chance. It was like finding a fifth gear in a four-speed transmission. With fists thrashing at the surface of the water spattering driblets into his eyes, stinging them like acid. He continued
Before long he was out in the calm open water, lying still gasping for breath.
Upon the horizon three or four giant walls of liquid loomed. The petrified surfer was quick to notice sending his whole body into a fit of fear. He paddled for his life. So intense was the rush of adrenalins to his system he could almost feel the air around him. Every part of his body tingled. It became apparent that he would be cleaned up by the monstrous waves.
Amazingly he managed to get over the first three waves, but just barely. The fourth wave in the set was another story all together. It towered three fold taller than all of the waves that had been witnessed that day. It sucked all of the water in the small bay up like when you let the plug out of the bath. Rocks on the sea bottom rolled around like marbles. You could literally hear the wave coming; a shrill rasping noise. Right square in the middle of its path sat the terrified boy. Feeling like a grain of sand in the Sahara Dessert. Images of limbs scattered over the rugged rock flashed through his mind for a brief second but he refused to pay them any attention, pushing them to the darkest realms of his head.
He somehow knew that this wave was intended for him. He started to stroke his way towards the shore; the complete opposite direction any rationally thinking person would be going. But the surfer wasn t listening to his mind. He was listening to something deep inside of himself, a strange gut instinct. The power of the wave hit him from behind like a freight train. No longer was the boy propelling the board through the water. Now the wave was in control. The surfer was merely a passenger along for the ride. The face of the wave became vertical as the lip pitched behind its passenger. The boy s board cut through the water like a hot knife through butter. For an instant the lad had no fear at all he just lost himself in the moment. The wave reared up like a wild beast. Swallowing the boy up viciously, shaking, spinning the boy into shore before spitting him out onto the rocks.
A sharp crack went up his body. A searing pain came flowing from his leg. Coughing and spluttering the washed up body made its way ashore. A small grin sneaked its way onto the youngster s face.
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