Editor: Nick Harding - Robert Stevenson, 57 and a British doctor, has lived in Hong Kong just over 20 years and started paddling surfski 5 years ago. Since, he has taken part in World Series races in Hong Kong, Mauritius and South Africa. However his paddling achievements may never have happened, had his first big-wave wipeouts got the better of him.

“I dragged myself up the steeply sloping sand of La Mercie Beach having spectacularly failed to negotiate its crushing shore break attempting to reach the start of the FNB Durban Downwind surfski race.

Inexperienced, I might have been but not totally unprepared having been fortunate enough to be tutored in the essential skills needed for paddling in the surf by the incomparable Mocke brothers: undo your leash, pick your set, go hard, attack the wave and don't hang around in the impact zone.

The waves facing me today were bigger, much bigger than I had ever contemplated paddling through before. Within a few strokes I had punched through the first few foamies and was feeling strong when I had this ominous feeling that the water was being sucked from under me and as I looked up I saw it; it was huge.

If you are unlucky or if, as in my case, you are not experienced in reading the sets, the final wave can become a wall of water the size of a house and being bigger it breaks further out, broadening the impact zone to an impossible distance. I clearly recall a moment catching a glimpse of the bow of my boat as it pointed directly skywards as if preparing itself for a missile launch as my world transformed itself into a swirling mass of water, foam and sand.

The ski transforms itself into a thrashing, gyrating lethal weapon, bent on inflicting bodily harm while your paddle is plucked from your grasp in a second. Gradually the spin cycle subsided and the buoyancy provided by my life jacket popped me to the surface. Pleased to be able to see the sky again my problems were not entirely over as I was now 75 metres from the beach facing a strong under-tow with waves breaking on my head every 13 seconds; it took me a good 5 minutes of hard swimming to make the shore.

They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day' ... a detail from Snow Storm by JMW Turner. Photograph: Tate Turner, Joseph Mallord William/Tate, / Tate Images

Sitting dejectedly on the sand, struggling to come to terms with the frankly unfamiliar feeling of complete failure, looking up I had a vision that Hank McGregor was standing over me, reaching out his hand, asking me for my paddle. "You have come a long way" said the vision, "it would be a pity if you didn't race."

He went on to explain that he was offering to paddle my boat to the back line and I was to take the safety boat out and meet him there. Meekly I handed over my paddle and without further ado Hank was gone.

Within seconds an orange rubber duck came careering towards us through the surf. I didn't have time to consider whether Hank's proposal was a sensible one I just knew that it was the only way I had of keeping my dream alive [of achieving a World Series ranking].

"Now" they yelled in unison and as the boat closed in I lunged for it and felt two powerful hands grab hold of my harness and haul me over the side. Zig zagging this way and that out through the white water we went until suddenly there was quiet and the blue of the ocean and Hank sitting calmly astride my ski waiting for us.

Almost missing the start put me at the back of the pack, I caught my breath and for the first time in a while was in a position to take stock of my situation. My juice bag was gone so there was not going to be any fluids for the next two hours; not great but not terminal. My hat was missing but conditions were overcast; hot but manageable. I was tired, I reasoned that all I had to do was keep going for 26 kms and I would finish.

For the next two hours as I paddled to complete the race rather than compete in it. At the prize giving that evening I was honoured to be named FNB Durban Downwind Swimming Champion 2015. Even my cap, lost in the surf at La Mercie, was returned to me [and dried!].

Open ocean paddling is an extreme sport and there have been moments when the conditions have been such that my primary emotion has been one of terror. The fear aspect of paddling may be responsible for a growing spiritual awareness in me,  but I tend to think that it is not fear that has planted this seed but a growing sense that this is something I was meant to do.

I have been incredibly fortunate that since that first outing the world of surfski has had a positive affect on the physical, social, emotional and spiritual aspects of my life. It has helped create a tremendous sense of well-being that has developed into a passion which I feel will be one of the defining features of the rest of my life.”

Robert Stevenson

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