This writer is starting to feel a little emotionally fragile at present. Two friends’ funerals in five days and two other friends in sheer pitched battles for their lives against cancer.
I am emotionally shaken. Reading up on “survivors guilt” I see it is a form of PTSD and I am starting to feel a little that way.
Ever since the time of the passing of surfers Dean Gierke and Byron Gray there has been a gentle background dark shadow in the back of my psyche, how come them and not me?
I feel for my friends in full-time pastoral positions who deal with deep grief every day, while my emotional shake-up is only once in a while.
As I write to you, we have just laid my friend Brian Heathcote to rest today 24/03/1956 – 26/10/2026, rest in peace my friend. Condolences to Cindy, Josh, Tegan and family.
I must tell you a story about Brian surfing at Nahoon Reef.
He was a jolly good surfer and quite often quite literally yodelling with joy at the backline of the waves unless there was a wave-ski around, in which case he might be just a little grumpy.
Now dolphins are fantastically clever creatures. Incredibly powerful and fast in the water, they navigate with radar.
This dolphin’s radar must have been on the fritz that day because he launched out of the wave he was surfing and crashed right through unsuspecting Brian.
I have never seen this before and never seen it again in all my surfing. Brian was devastated. Demolished. P=MV. Momentum equals mass x velocity.
Adult dolphins weigh between 150 and 650kg and can swim or surf at a top speed of about 60km/h.
Let’s say 50km/h x 250kg for a conservative estimate of 12,500kg/metres per second. This makes a flying dive tackle by Jonah Lomu seem paltry by comparison.
The impact, I am sure, was not too far different from a car crash.
The aftermath was Brian with three broken ribs, his surfboard instantly smashed in half, and pretty much about to drown.
Who says God does not have a sense of humour? Who rescues Brian? A wave-ski. Very much the worse for wear he staggered up the path at Reef to go fetch his car key hidden under his secret rock.
What should greet him but a hissing puffadder sitting on the rock. I am not making this up.
Shoo, shoo, you nasty snake, he gets his keys, lurching and reeling, he gets to his car to receive a phone call from a renowned surfboard shaper, Spider Murphy: “Hey Brian, when are you going to pay me for that new board I sent you?”
Nahoon Reef is a great wave, and it keeps many of us local surfers full of joy as we race all over the powerful wave faces, but it is not paradise.
Brian was not shy about his faith and of the same belief as this writer, holding fast to the Scripture: “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.”
For surfers who are invested in the idea of waves at Nias, Mentawais or Sumbawa, paradise is a very attractive idea.
No drunken dolphins there, no puffadder snakes, no SARS, no east wind, and surfboards grow on trees.
My theology might be a little skewed here, but the bottom line is I am convinced that my friend is in a better place.
But what to do about the emotional shake-up? (I am sure I am not alone in this.) What is the antidote?
This writer can only think of common or garden smarts. Have faith and pray. Work hard and get good exercise. Eat good food even if you have to force it a little. Help somebody who can do with a hand. Find some humour somewhere and have a laugh. Stick with good friends and accept help when it comes. Get some good sleep. Live intentionally.
“Live, Love, Learn” — Leo Buscaglia. “You do the best you can.” — Jordan Peterson
I have plans to go surfing tomorrow. Some people call it saltwater therapy. I could do with that round about now.