Surviving at Sea (Drifting at Sea for 3 Days and 4 Nights)

But as I went on, the wind grew stronger and the waves grew rougher. I gradually felt that something was wrong. I knew that the gap between the two islands was a wind tunnel where the wind could become stronger. But today's weather forecast showed that the wind speed was only 16 miles per hour, with the maximum wind speed of 25 miles per hour. The wind speed in this wind tunnel should not exceed 30 miles per hour, and the waves were only four feet high with an eight-second interval. These sea conditions were within my capabilities.

I had experienced wind speeds of 35 miles per hour and waves of eight feet high with a ten-second interval before, which was much more difficult than today's forecast. But even though it was tough, I could barely handle it. So why did I feel more and more uneasy as I went on today?

I estimated that about two-thirds of the gap of two islands had passed, and the wind should be strongest in the middle of the gap, with weaker winds on the sides due to the resistance of the mountains. The waves should also be smaller on the mountain side due to the lower wind speed. Additionally, the wind zone resembles a trumpet shape, so after passing through the narrowest point, the wind speed will gradually decrease as the zone widens. Therefore, I decided to quickly paddle to the mountain side before the sun set and then drift along the mountain side, expecting the situation to improve.

However, I was wrong. I underestimated the energy of the wind and waves to come. As I desperately paddled towards the mountain side, the wind speed increased, the waves grew higher, and the energy intensified. Several waves nearly capsized my kayak. At the same time, seaweed entangled my foot pedals and rudder, so I quickly cleared them during a short break between two waves. During those few seconds, the kayak lost control and almost capsized.

I paddled hard with my feet, opened up the sail slightly for extra power, and used one eye to keep an eye on the situation of the waves behind me. Based on the direction, energy, and interval of the waves, I estimated their height and the time they would reach their highest point. I fine-tuned the rudder to avoid dangerous points and prevent the kayak from capsizing. At that moment, I used all my concentration and hand-foot coordination.

As the saying goes, "except for life and death, everything else is a trivial matter." There is also a saying in my sailing rulebook, "to avoid capsizing, everything else can wait."

At this point, the size of the sail also matters a lot. If it's too small, it won't provide enough power, and relying solely on foot power won't be enough. If it's too big, the center of gravity will be higher, and if the kayak happens to be on the downward slope of a wave, the boat will tilt. If the wind suddenly increases, the kayak is very likely to capsize. Of course, several factors need to be combined to cause capsizing, but if you avoid one, you may not avoid the next. There will always be a time when several worst factors will combine, so you must not have a lucky mentality, or you will surely capsize.

At this point, the only thing you can do is sacrifice some things to ensure that even in the worst case, you won't capsize. For example, if you reduce the size of the sail, you sacrifice some power to ensure safety.

As I paddled desperately towards the mountain side, the wind speed and wave height kept increasing, and the wave speed also got faster. In the end, no matter how hard I paddled, my kayak could barely move forward, or I felt like it wasn't moving at all. The sun was setting quickly, and I felt very anxious. A sense of impending doom was growing stronger.

Why was I so afraid of the dark? Because in the dark, I couldn't see the direction and height of the waves, I could only hear the sound of the waves crashing. I had no idea when the waves would come, where they would come from, or where they would go. I couldn't predict to avoid them. If I encountered such strong winds and waves in the dark, I would surely capsize.

I gave up resisting and struggling, and decided to become a part of the wave, going with the flow of the waves and wind. I remembered a saying from a Yangtze River adventurer, "When you can't fight the waves, imagine yourself as part of the wave and go with it."

After adjusting the direction of my kayak and going with the flow of the waves without struggling, it only took a few minutes and I had drifted far away. I thought to myself, "As long as I keep drifting towards the shore, I can go as far as the Mexican border. What does it matter if I end up in Mexico? As long as I don't capsize, everything will be fine." Why was I so afraid of capsizing? Because capsizing meant certain death. The seawater was too cold, and I couldn't hold on for long in the water.

In this sudden situation, how could I not take a photo to remember it by? So, in the midst of two huge waves, I quickly took out my phone and took a picture.

In the photo below, you can see that the first wave has passed, and the second wave is approaching. I was in a valley between the waves. The high point of the second wave covered the sea level, and I could only see the slope of the front wave. The water on the slope was blown hard by the strong wind. You can imagine how big the waves were and how strong the wind was at that time.

When I looked back, I saw a faint yellow light between the cloud and the wave peak. I didn't feel the beauty of it, but rather a sense of fear. It was a light of death with a hint of blood.

This was the last photo of the trip. The most dangerous part just now was impossible to capture on camera.

Just when I thought the crisis was over and I could relax, I realized that an even bigger crisis was waiting for me.

The wind kept getting stronger, and after drifting for a while, I realized that things were getting worse. The waves were getting bigger and bigger, with some waves reaching almost ten feet high, and the time gap between them was irregular. Sometimes it was more than ten seconds, sometimes only two or three seconds. My kayak almost capsized several times. luckily the sky still has a dime light, so I could still avoid the waves, but if it got dark, I would definitely capsize. I quickly analyzed the reasons:

The wind had been blowing for so long, and instead of decreasing, it was increasing. The ropes pulling the sail were making a whistling sound in the strong wind. According to my experience, the wind speed should be between 35 and 40 miles per hour, far beyond what I could withstand.

The wind was causing the waves to get higher and higher, with one wave higher than the next. It was very dangerous for me to go along with the wind and waves like this. At some point, the waves would be so high that they would capsize my kayak.
How to avoid danger? There was one way, which was to quickly paddle to the mountain side. Although the wind was still strong there, the waves should be smaller. In theory, the waves should start from zero height at the mountain side and gradually increase in height under the influence of the strong wind, reaching the height I was currently experiencing.

With my mind made up, at this critical moment of life and death, I couldn't hesitate for a moment. I immediately turned my kayak, adjusted the direction, and paddled with all my strength towards the foot of the mountain in front of me.

My kayak was now parallel to the waves, which was very dangerous and could easily capsize. Fortunately, my kayak had two AMA on either side, which increased its stability. Also, there was still some light in the sky, so I could see the waves and avoid them. But it was still very dangerous, and I had to paddle with all my strength, but my progress was very slow because the wind and waves were too strong.

But I couldn't stop. I knew that this was the only way to survive. As I paddled, I shouted to the sky and the sea, "Please spare me. I just want to go home. I swear, if you spare me this time, I will never come to this sea again, and I will never offend you again." But I felt that my reasons were not enough, so I shouted again after a while, "I didn't catch any fish this time, and I didn't kill any living creatures. Please spare me. I just want to go home."

Maybe the sky and the sea here couldn't understand Chinese, so I shouted again in English.

I respect nature. Humans are just one part of nature, and we are just animals wearing clothes. Although humans have developed intelligence, we have lost our natural spirituality and become extremely arrogant because of our intelligence.

Yes, humans now have the ability to use technological weapons to destroy the earth. But what happens after the destruction? Nature will still be nature, and it will be humans who suffer the consequences. Humans will cease to exist.

But enough of this talk. Let's get back to the topic of this trip. I paddled for my life, and finally saw the mountain getting closer and the wind and waves gradually subsiding. It was now completely dark, but fortunately, there was a red light on the mountain, which served as a reference point and increased my confidence of winning.

Although I had avoided the risk of capsizing my kayak, I still had to keep paddling hardly to maintain balance. I couldn't keep doing this forever. Maybe I could endure it for another hour or two, but I couldn't hold on any longer than that. And I didn't know when this strong wind would end.

I wasn't in the water yet, and my life wasn't in danger. I couldn't use my PLB to call for help. But if I really couldn't hold on any longer, what should I do? I had a wife and children, and I couldn't die here like this. If I passed out from exhaustion, I would call for help before giving up.

But before I was too exhausted to go on, the wind suddenly stopped, just like it had suddenly appeared. In just a few minutes.

Do you think it's strange? Do you think it's miraculous? I can't understand how the wind could be like this, coming and going at will. It seemed to be targeting me specifically, but in any case, the heavens spared me this time. Maybe he heard my oath, or maybe he thought I didn't deserve to die. "Dead crimes can be forgiven, but living crimes are hard to escape." After struggling for so long, he finally spared me.

I must keep the oath I made. Fortunately, I only said I wouldn't come to the sea in LA again, without including others. Otherwise, I would have no fate with the sea for the rest of my life.

The following is the route map I took at that time:

1. The arrow in the picture is where I decided to paddle towards the mountainside and take action. From this point, I turned right and struggled towards the mountainside.
2. The triangle in the picture is where I gave up struggling and prepared to go with the wind and waves.
3. "2" in the picture is where I took my last photo.
4. The pentagram in the picture is where I realized that I was going in the wrong direction with the wind and waves and had to sail towards the mountainside to seek survival.
5. The square on the far right in the picture is where I struggled to the mountainside and felt that the wind and waves were getting smaller.

I stayed there to take shelter. After the wind and waves subsided, I sorted out the things that were messed up by the wind and waves on my kayak and headed towards LA. The closer I got to the shore of LA, the smaller the wind and waves would be. I wasn't worried about the rest of the way.

Because I had just struggled for survival with all my strength, I didn't notice that my phone was dead. So while rushing towards LA, I charged my phone. After the experience of struggling for survival just now, I didn't have the urge to take photos anymore. Along the way, I was only relieved after the shock.

This is what it looks like when the wind rushes through the gap.

The total distance of this trip was 210 nautical miles. "1" is the Conception point Channel, and "2" is the high windy area, both of which are dangerous places.

For this trip, I prepared for a long time and very thoroughly, as shown in the picture below. I bought two PLB, one as a backup in case the first one doesn't work, two walkie-talkies, two compasses, and two phones, not to mention food, fishing gear, and so on.

However, no matter how much I had planned, I never expected that the nights on the sea off Southern California at the end of May and beginning of June would be so cold, even colder than Northern California.

No matter how much I see in advance, I couldn't anticipate that the wind would suddenly stop, and then suddenly pick up to more than double the forecasted speed.

The lessons learned are:

1). You cannot ignore weather forecasts, but you also cannot entirely rely on them.
2). When passing through certain checkpoints, take advantage of good weather and an early start to quickly pass through.
3). You must be able to endure weather that is worse than forecasted by twice as much.

The most important thing, which can only be truly appreciated after experiencing danger, is that family is the most important. In times of danger, you can only think of your family, and nothing else, such as the fame and fortune that you usually care about.

After this experience, I want to stay at home and spend more time with my wife and children before next Journey.

-----------End, Thanks for your reading!................

This is the real deal. Epic trip and a great read. Thank you for posting. Good luck on your next adventure

The wind picked up, and this kind of wind and sea condition was the ideal state for sailing with a sail. It was safe, comfortable, and relaxing.

Perfect sailing conditions!

You made an amazing trip. I’m glad you arrived safely.
You did a great job documenting your story and thoughts.
Thank you for sharing your journey. 

Al

I don't know how, but I got seasick just reading about your adventure! Glad you made it home safe

Just curious if you intended to go around the Channel Islands like that. Going between those islands could have been avoided if you'd been a little closer to shore, and that's what I figured you'd planned to do...

You are the man Mr. X.  Thanks for the great write up as usual, what an adventure.

"I must keep the oath I made. Fortunately, I only said I wouldn't come to the sea in LA again, without including others. Otherwise, I would have no fate with the sea for the rest of my life."

I laughed out loud as I read this. Going back a little on these oaths we make in times of crisis is human nature.

I remember in the middle of my first multi-pitch rock climb, sitting on a ledge 150' off the ground, me and Juan proclaimed that all we wanted to do was get to the top and off the rock and we would never climb again. But as soon as we got to the top, that was forgotten and we were celebrating how great it was.

This adventure and write up of yours is outstanding. I'm so glad it didn't end badly. I would suggest dialing it back a notch.

As I look back at my climbing days, sure the "I almost died" days are memorable and make great stories, but the "That climb went well and as-planned" days give a better feeling of competence and accomplishment.

Xia, I'm very happy to know you, and be able to read these tales of your dreams being chased and fulfilled.  I learn a lot from these posts, or poetry? like reading about the true challenges in life and how to live in the moment if not for fear of death, but from fear of not living life.  I salute you sir, and hope you will some day let me buy you a drink and regale me with some of your stories from your trips in person.  Remarkable to say the least, I'm glad you had a happy ending to this adventure and wish you luck on many more.

That is so wild. Much respect to you. I know waves look a lot smaller and less steep in photos, so it must have been crazy; I can't imagine it in such a small boat not made for the open ocean. I'm glad you had the skills, experience, and determination to pull through when things got tough. Thanks for sharing your adventures.