In 87 or 88 just west of Pensacola. We started with6-8 ft swells and then the wind and the current broke them up into what looked like a bunch of 3-10 ft moving hills.

It was a blast. Sailing was like running through the woods with hills and valleys. You could sail through the valleys or jump off the top.

The 3rd or 4th time I went out, I took somebodys karate instructor girlfriend on a N5.8. I started jumping off the tops until my crew told me if I hurt her, she was going to kick me so hard, a valued part of my body was going to come out my mouth.

By the time I found better crew, the hills turned into chop.