Creative Writing – Battling the Ocean

Below is my creative writing.

Battling the Ocean


I saw it coming but could do nothing. The wave struck me with the ferocity of a bullet train,  forcing the air from my lungs. I gripped my paddleboard as we both were flipped over violently, submerged beneath the raging water. The paddle was wrenched from my grasp. Everything seemed to unfold in slow motion as I struggled frenziedly to reach the surface, lungs bursting. An eternity seemed to pass. Then I felt a breeze of cool air hit my face. Relieved, I gasped quickly.


Another wave. But this time I was prepared. Pushing through the churning water, I propelled myself up and over it, watching as the wave rolled off into the distance, bubbling and fizzing unpredictably. I steadied myself on my board and began to kick as rapidly as I could, reaching forward with my arms, then pushing back the sea in a smooth motion. I had to get to shore. But I was no match for the current, which, like a treadmill, held me in place.

Then I remembered Tom. He had been with me just a moment ago, before the first wave struck. But now he was gone. Caught in the moment I had forgotten my companion.  A wave of panic washed through my entire body. I glanced around hurriedly, but couldn’t see Tom through the towering waves.

Tom and I had been best friends for as long as I could remember. He had always had a taste for adventure, and, no matter the weather, would always be outdoors, exploring. Even though he wasn’t a great swimmer, he loved the water and so it had been my idea to take him out surfing today at Piha. The sun was shining brightly and the beach was packed. But this had only masked the brutality of the water. Tom and I had been caught in a rip and dragged out, further and further through the foaming mess.

My mind raced. Where was Tom? I needed to confront the waves and search for my loyal friend. My hands tightened like a vice over the rough edges of my board. Clinging, kicking, gasping, I fought my way through the menacing waves in search of Tom. Almost immediately, a towering wall of water crushed me, returning me to my place of terror. An overriding sense of self preservation violently kicked in. I knew that I had to focus on my own safety and have faith that Tom would find a way back to shore. Fighting against the current, I pushed onward with renewed energy, gradually beginning to make progress. A short distance to my right I could see waves crashing onto jagged black rocks. They stared at me as though they wanted to cut me to pieces.

After what seemed to be an eternity of struggling against the ferocity of the sea, I was immensely relieved to find myself a short distance from the shore. I felt myself being lifted by a wave about to break. I allowed its force to carry me the last stretch to safety, until I felt the sand against my feet. I stumbled onto shore. No strength was left within my limbs. I collapsed to the ground. Relief flooded over me with the cool air. Shakily, I got to my feet and scanned the beach. Where was Tom? Was he all right? A sea of strange faces confronted me; he was nowhere to be found. In my peripheral vision, I could see the orange rescue boat pounding up and over the waves, jetting into shore. I hoped with all my heart that Tom had been rescued. Given his limited swimming ability, I didn’t think that he would have been able to swim in on his own. I rushed over as quickly as I could.

Then everything started to unfold in a blur. One of the rescue team lifted Tom up and out of the boat, supporting his limp body in her arms. She laid him down on the sand.

‘I think it’s too late,’ she said in defeat.

‘No!’ I cried, sinking to the ground. I ran a hand over Tom’s bedraggled fur, feeling for any sort of response.


Tears rolled down my face as I held onto his lifeless paw. The world spun around me as I struggled to comprehend what had happened. I stared into his brilliant brown eyes and slowly I started to weep.


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