I woke up to find my phone had died. I could’ve faffed away the day trying to sort things out but instead just got on the water to paddle away my frustration.

I cut across the bay and swell built, coming from my right-hand side. Waves put me in a state of flow where my mind is at ease. I think it’s the energy, like watching a fire burn or a stream flow. I’ve found the flat days to be the toughest. I don’t get into that flow state and my mind doesn’t know where to go.

After a few hours, Pointe Saint Gildas came in to view. The swell pounded the cliffs and reflected back, making the sea confused and bouncy. I stayed away from where the waves were breaking and located a beach that looked good to land. I surfed in, unaware of the dumpy wave on the beach, and a small crowd gathered. My boat was sucked back and a wave crashed down, spilling me sideways and snapping my GoPro mast. The crowd looked satisfied with the entertainment I’d provided as I dragged myself up the beach to the sailing club, nothing hurt but my ego.