In the wake of a 960-millibar low-pressure system passing southern Vancouver Island, an intense westerly winter wind kicked up a mean chop off the Victoria, B.C., waterfront. I was eager to take advantage of the churning water and clear skies to refine my rough-water paddling technique.

The duration and intensity of the gusty winds made paddling more difficult than I had anticipated. Although the bay was wide enough to provide a safe, secure catch-basin for me if I were forced to do a wet exit, paddle and boat control grew increasingly trying, so I decided to surf in and wait for the wind speed to drop.

A blast of wind pushed me dangerously close to a shallow lee-shore headland at the edge of the pebbled beach lining the bay. Unable to turn into the wind to move back into the middle of the bay, I tried riding in to shore on the back of a four-foot wind-wave. I had taken aim at a relatively navigable section of the shoals around the point, when the stern of my kayak was suddenly and steeply lifted by an unusually large wave. Before I could lean back, the bow buried deep into the trough and hit the rocky bottom. The force of the impact broke the foot bar and drove my legs and hips deep into the cockpit.

When I found myself hanging upside down, I felt a moment of relief because I was wearing my surf helmet, but then I discovered that being twisted in the cockpit threw off my set-up for rolling. Out of air, I released the spray skirt and attempted a wet exit but was unable to extricate myself from the cockpit. I was both surprised and annoyed that I couldn't exert enough leverage to push myself out of the cockpit. The waves pushed me into a narrow, shallow surge channel where I didn't have enough space to try to roll or scull to the surface for air.

Panicking, I let go of my paddle to push off the rocks while desperately trying to pull myself up for air in the lull between the back-and-forth surging of the cold sea. Jammed in the cockpit and starting to suck in water, I was on the verge of blacking out. Fortunately, two good Samaritans watching the storm from the road above the beach rushed down to the shoreline to help me.

That was almost 20 years ago, but I can still recall the sense of helplessness and despair I felt the moment I realized I was trapped in my kayak.