Raising A Soul Surfer (18 page)

The rest of the family helped Bethany’s blossoming surf career too. It was Timmy who encouraged her to paddle into bigger waves. It was Tom and I who shot hours and hours of video, and Noah took hundreds of photos of her. Nothing makes you learn to surf better than watching yourself to catch and correct mistakes and bad habits.

The prospect of 13-year-old Bethany becoming a professional surfer before she was out of high school was getting brighter. A surfing career, as a believer in Jesus Christ, should not simply be a means for gaining money, trophies or accolades, but a way to give glory to God. I remember that Bethany and I prayed about this very thing several weeks before she was attacked. Our prayer went like this:
Lord, bring Bethany into the center of Your will and use her surfing to glorify and honor Your name
. It never occurred to us the manner in which God would answer our prayer.

This was a time when our lives had a familiar routine. I’d wake up early, check the surf report and then rouse Bethany to let her know where we might find the best surf. After drinking a quick smoothie, we’d load up our surf van, pick up Alana and then go off to find waves. I would video the girls and get them home by 10:00
A.M
. to get the schoolwork started. We then put in a quick afternoon surf session. After dinner, we would watch the video so they could evaluate their performance.

I had never lost the desire to seriously get back into surfing. Ever since Noah’s birth, I’d put my passion aside. Now I decided that this might be the time to get back on the board. In my mind’s eye, I could see myself surfing waves with the girls. Now that would be awesome!

But first I’d need to get back into shape.

Surfing any waves demands strength and endurance. You have to be able to take a punishing wipeout, hold your breath under the crush of gallons of water, and paddle to keep yourself in the surging lineup. I was a long way from my physical prime, but I knew that I had the discipline and motivation to stick to training. I decided that I would get into the local swim club and start working out every day. I dug out my racing-style swimsuit and goggles, picked up some earplugs and packed them and a towel into my beach bag, ready for the day.

I was excited. In a few weeks, if I worked hard, I’d be able to join Noah, Timmy, Bethany and her friends out in the lineup as the winter waves started to arrive. Of course, Tom, would be out there too.

I glanced at the calendar and was reminded that it was October 31. I would drop Bethany off at the beach for some surfing, come home and grab my swim gear and head to the pool for my long-overdue workout regimen. It was a great day to start on my dreams.

Except that things often do not go as planned.

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to
accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives
.
GENESIS 50:20,
NIV

It was late Thursday afternoon
after our thrift shop venture to get Halloween costumes when I took Alana and Bethany to a surf break called Tunnels. It was the first place I ever surfed on Kauai. We had just checked another spot that looked really fun, but it was too crowded and didn’t have enough waves for the guys already out there. So we ended up at Tunnels.

That day there were small waves coming in off the corner of the reef, with glassy conditions, the wind being almost nonexistent. By now it was 5:00
P.M
. I told the girls they could paddle out for a few waves while I read a book on the beach. What none of us knew was that a shark had been harassing the surfers who had just come in. If we had known that, we would have changed our plans right then and also the next morning.

When the girls reached the lineup, a freak storm showed up out of nowhere, blowing the little waves apart and pelting us all with rain. I ran for cover under the trees as the girls paddled back
to the beach without catching a single wave. I sometimes wonder if that storm was part of God’s providence to avoid something from happening when there would have been no one out there in the water to help them.

On Friday, the next morning, I realized it was going to be a full day. The girls were older and stronger now and would soon be surfing the powerful outer reef breaks too far out for me to film. I had my beach bag ready to go swim after I took them surfing. I needed to work up to 60 laps in the pool without feeling exhausted if I was going to surf again and keep up with the heavier stuff the kids were now paddling into.

Timmy was eating breakfast, but Tom was fasting because he was heading to the hospital for an operation on his knee (he had torn his meniscus cartilage while surfing a few years ago, and he’d recently tweaked it again). After he dropped his dad off at the hospital, Timmy was heading off to Kapaa High School.

Tonight was October 31, Halloween 2003. Thirteen-year-old Bethany and Alana had their costumes ready for this evening’s fun. She and Alana had scoured the Kilauea thrift store and had each scored matching “men in black” outfits of suit, loafer shoes, hat and sunglasses. The girls would first go to a Fall Festival at our church with Sarah Hill before cruising with friends all over the neighborhood trick-or-treating.

I checked the surf report.

October is an odd month because the swells are shifting from a southern to a northern direction, occasionally firing off from both directions at once. The surf report wasn’t very hopeful, but part of the duty of a professional surfer is learning to
shred in little mushy waves, which is usually all you have to work with during a contest. You can predict waves all you want, but they don’t always show up the morning of a contest.

As was our ritual, Ginger, our dog, helped me roust Bethany.

“Wake up,” I said. “Let’s go check the surf.”

My job that morning was chauffeur. I also would video surf sessions if the waves were worthy. We had our van, which we nicknamed the “Blue Crush.” It was ugly, but it was perfect for all the sand, wax, wet towels and bathing suits, not to mention how many extra kids and surfboards we could fit into it.

At Wilcox Hospital, Tom wasn’t looking forward to his surgery, but because this was the second repair job on his knee, he thought it would be interesting to watch the surgery, so he opted for a spinal tap rather than full anesthesia. Bethany was taking her sweet time getting ready, so I made her a bowl of Raisin Bran to go as we drove to look for waves. We called Alana to see if she wanted to join us; but unlike Bethany, Alana’s not much of an early riser. Like us, the Blanchards are a dedicated surfing family with a similar routine and would not be far behind after they dropped Alana’s little brother off at Hanalei School.

The sun was just cracking over the horizon as we drove down the hill on our surf check. The view of the bay as you weave down the road leading into Hanalei is spectacular. The bay looked flat with no white water lines showing breaking waves.

Instead of calling it quits, we decided to go all the way to the end of the road. You never know when one of the other spots will have a little something to surf.

After an unsuccessful search, Bethany was resigned to go home and start her online schoolwork. On the way back home, we spotted Alana, her dad, Holt, and her brother Byron. They had just pulled into Tunnels parking lot to check the surf.

“Hey, there’s some surf,” they said. “It’s small, but . . .”

It was tiny out, but the prospect of surfing with Alana rather than doing schoolwork excited Bethany. “Can I stay with them?” she asked me.

“We’ll probably only surf for an hour,” Holt said. “I’ll drop her off when we’re done.”

I figured it would take me just a few extra minutes to grab my swim bag and get to the pool, so I said enthusiastically, “Great!”

Bethany was already getting her board and towel out of the van.

As I turned around and drove off, I noticed Jeff Walba waxing his board. Jeff was a North Shore regular who had been off island for a while. I remember thinking,
Gee, I haven’t seen that guy for years
. But there was no time to play catch-up; I was off to begin training for my long-deferred return to surfing.

It was already about 7:30
A.M
. when I got home and grabbed my gear. I was almost out the door when the phone rang. I thought about not answering it, as I was on a mission; but then the thought occurred to me that it might be Bethany wanting a ride home, so I glanced down. I was puzzled when the caller ID said it was Jeff Walba calling me.

What could he possibly want?
I thought, as I picked up the receiver. I will never forget his words. “Cheri, there’s been an accident. You need to go to the hospital. Your daughter has been attacked by a shark.”

My first impulse was that this was some joke of Bethany’s and that she would grab the phone and say, “Okay, you can come get me, I need a ride home.”

So I said, “Come on, what’s really going on?”

Jeff, no doubt taken aback by my response, got very serious and with a tight voice said, “No, really, she’s been attacked by a shark.”

My adrenaline exploded!

As I woke Noah, I screamed, “We’ve got to go to the hospital, Bethany’s been attacked by a shark.”

“What happened?” He was groggy, trying to understand. Then he wanted answers, details. But I didn’t know anything.

The phone rang again. This time it was the police who reported to me that my daughter had been attacked by a shark and was heading to the hospital in an ambulance. I asked the officer what her condition was, but he replied that he was not permitted to give any more information.

After packing clothes into an overnight bag, enough for a few days in the hospital, I made a quick call to the
700 Club
and asked for prayer. Then I bolted out the door. I didn’t wait for Noah as he made a call to Sarah Hill.

What happened on that fateful Halloween morning has been told many times and is covered in Bethany’s book and the
Soul Surfer
film. But just in case, let me give a brief outline. Four surfers, Holt, Byron, Alana and Bethany, paddled out for 10 minutes to surf the waves at Tunnels. I headed home to my swim workout at a nearby pool. Tunnels is an outer reef that sits almost a quarter mile off shore in deep water.

Everyone knew that it would be a short session, just a light workout to enjoy the morning sun and the small but clean-breaking waves. Bethany had only caught one or two waves and was now lying on her surfboard, dangling her arm in the blue sparkly water as she quietly waited for a wave to come her way. She was just a few yards from Alana when she felt a jiggle, jiggle, tug on her left arm. Looking back over her shoulder and out of the corner of her eye, she caught a gray blur slipping back in the water from where it came.

In a hauntingly calm voice, she called to Alana, but loud enough for everyone to hear, “I’ve just been attacked by a shark.” The attack was silent and quick; but in that split second the
shark had taken off her arm near the shoulder, leaving a huge jaw-shaped crescent bite mark on her surfboard.

The Blanchards were momentarily paralyzed, and then Holt went into action. He saw a small wave coming and told Bethany “You’re going in!” and he pushed her into the wave as she lay on her board. Byron caught the same wave and rode alongside her while Alana and Holt caught the following wave.