Heres the story:

Saturday afternoon, the wind down at Wrightsville Beach NC had been blowing from 5-15knots all day long. I was with the NC State Sailing Club (I am the commodore, I guess I should take them out sailing every once in a while) and had my sig. other on the boat. We skirted around the Masonboro Inlet for a little bit, playing cat-and-mouse with this Hobie 16 that was out for a ride also. She started getting cold so I took her back in. After a quick snack, I headed back out, this time determined to taste true ocean water, solo (I mean, thats what my boat is designed for, one person).

At any rate, by the time I had gotten back to the inlet, the wind had kicked up to 15-25, and the chop inside the inlet had gotten to about 2 to 4 feet plus motorboat traffic wake and so forth. The local J24 fleet called their last race (I come to find this out later) because out in the ocean, the swells had grown to 6 to 8 feet. Anyways, I get out into the larger swells, and find myself litterally launching off the tops of the waves. It was truely exillerating, but at the same time, I was deathly scared. I decided, that I didn't want to break my newly painted boat that day, found the nearest navigation mark, rounded it, and went back in on a blazing reach. This was the first time at the helm of a surfing catamaran. Teetering on the edge of disaster is how I put it.

At any rate, for the recreational sailor, when do you turn around and head back to the beach? I was having a great time, but my stomach was also in my throat. I'd never been given a windshadow by a wave before.