by Robert Clay
You've probably heard that old saying, every seventh wave is a big one. I'm not sure about the number 7 since I only ever saw two really big waves in my years at sea, one off Cape Agulhas, a notorious place for waves, and one real monster that climbed up out of those long North Pacific rollers like the savage head of some prehistoric predator rising above the tall grass. This was literally a wall of water, a Tyrannosaurus wave filled with rage and fury against these little men in their puny steel ship who dared defy nature. Well I'm still here, although the ship got badly mauled, in places the paintwork stripped down to bare metal by the sheer ferocity of that mighty water beast. I've been away from the sea for years now, perhaps I didn't want to give nature a "third time lucky" option on my life. One thing I do know, the sea is a relentless bitch, so when I'm down on the beach, I keep an eye out for that seventh wave.
Robert Clay, whose full catalog is here, is a Seafarer now stranded on land. He lives in Cornwall in the UK.