Earlier today I learned of the death of one of my personal heroes from my Facebook friend, author Douglas Cavanagh.
Even if his advice to me years ago hadn’t saved my life more than once his achievements throughout his life would make him one of my heroes anyway.
Peter and his brothers were already three of surfing’s superstars when I started board surfing when I was nearly 17 in the late 50s. His youngest brother Lucky (aka Schuyler) was the student body president and star quarterback at Santa Monica High School when I started my first year after graduating from Lincoln Junior High. The Cole brothers grew up not far from me and their surfing prowess was well known.
Peter and his older brother Corny (Cornelius) Cole were both “Big Wave riders” whose reputations were made by tackling the ‘Big Waves’ on Oahu, Hawaii’s North Shore. Lucky made his reputation by mastering the smaller waves of Southern California’s coast, although he ended up moving to Oahu.
Corny became one of Disney’s top annimators and was also the early art director for SurfGuide Magazine in Santa Monica, where I began my writing career
Peter moved to Oahu where he had a distinguished career as a teacher an Punaho School and influenced generations of students to excel in academia and surfing.
I met Peter at Lincoln Junior High School where I was on both the swimming and water polo teams. He’d dropped in to catch up with our coach who was an old friend of his.
The second time I met Peter was at the same pool years later when I was training for my Red Cross Lifeguard Certificate. I’d been surfing since I was around 8 or 9. First on a mat, then bodysurfing. But now I was also board surfing and loved it. Again, he was visiting is old alma mater to catch up with someone he knew.
This time I knew about his big wave exploits and had seen him ride in surfing movies at the Civic Auditorium in Santa Monica. This time I wanted to ask him some questions.
His speaking voice was distinctive. I was low and authoritative without talking down to you like some teachers. He was talking TO me, not AT me. I instinctively knew I could trust what he told me. And a good thing I did.
At that stage I’d ridden a few of what to me were ‘Big Waves’. Maybe 15 feet, but probably less. Let’s say 15 feet worth of adrenaline. I knew I was a strong swimmer with stanima. My forté was distance, not sprints. But that was in a pool and I’d had a few scares in the Ocean when I misjudged her power.
So I asked him what I could do to prepare myself for a wipeout on a ‘Big Wave’. His quiet confidence gave me confidence. He told me the first thing I should do before trying to tackle any waves that could be called “Big” was to build up my lung capacity. I was to start with a few exercises then swim underwater in the pool holding my breath, slowly increasing the distance and times.
But, and he emphasized it … “Your wipeouts won’t be happening in a pool. So take your increased lung capacity to the next level in the ocean by diving down and holding onto a rock or something heavy for as long as you can to further increase it and get used to the currents moving you around.”
Then he imparted the most important advice anyone can give someone like me. “The first rule of surfing or even swimming at the beach. NEVER EVER turn your back on Mother Ocean. Never ignore her for more than a few seconds because she is full of surprises and her surprises can kill you.”
“The second rule is to not panic when she does surprise you. Panic kills more people than drowning because panic can cause you to drown.”
He let that sink in and continued. “Look … if you wipeout on a big wave you’re suddenly thrown into an underwater washing machine. You don’t know which way is which. When you panic you start fighting your way to the surface, but you could be swimming sideways or down instead of up. Wait until there’s lull – it might only be momentary, so stay alert. Don’t panic.”
“Wait for that lull and swim towards the light. Light from the sun. That’s the direction to head for. And when you get there take a deep breath because you may be forced underwater by another breaking wave. Just keep remembering, ‘Don’t panic.’”
I took his advice and built up a great lung capacity and took it to Latigo where I increased it by diving down to the offshore boulders. I also had my first opportunity to utilize his “Don’t panic” advice when my legs somehow got caught up in some of the thick seaweed that plagued me when I used to surf Latigo regularly.
Believe me, I started to panic and struggle. I stared thinking about how much longer I could hold my breath. But once I remembered Peter’s advice I calmed down and was able to slip out of their slimy grasp and pop to the surface.
Years later my first wife and I were staying with friends on Oahu’s North Shore just down the beach from a surfing spot known as Leftovers. I wasn’t in the most robust physical condition at the time yet decided to paddle out on a borrowed board and try my luck. My luck suddenly ran out as the small to medium waves suddenly, and without warning, started increasing in size. I paddled over the first few sets, but they just kept getting bigger … and bigger. Until I couldn’t paddle over any more. I got caught inside, lost the board and was thrown around underwater. PANIC!
I was starting to run out of air when Peter’s comforting voice came through my panic and I went limp … going with the flow and conserving my energy. I knew about the reefs. Some were razor sharp and I figured the worst that could happen is that I’d get cut up as I was carried over them. But I was relaxed about it as I became aware of being taken to shore. Much to my relief I popped up in the small kids’ swimming beach on the shore side of the reef right next to the board I’d borrowed. I was floating, relaxed in warm, calm water. Peter’s advice had saved my life.
Peter Cole – legendary surfer, teacher, mentor, gentleman, waterman and lifesaver. Thank you.
A Tribute to Peter Cole – 1930 – 1922 © Robert R. Feigel 2022 – All rights reserved
Pieces from a Puzzling Life 