What a weekend. Woo... wee! The northeast wind was honking like mad and I just had to be there for it.

Woke up late on Saturday and managed to hit the water at about 3ish in the afternoon. Heard from the others that the wind was much stronger earlier on in the morning. But fortunately for me, there were still pockets of it left in the afternoon. Damn the constipating clouds! No matter, at least I had a great time.

When I arrived, I was surprise to discover that the lagoon hawker centre that has been closed for a year is now reopened. After tearing down the old one, they have erected a new swanky one in its place. Nice! Very resort looking. Even the toilets are stunning. I was like wow!!

But unfortunately, it seems the whole of Singapore heard about it because by the time I went out for dinner in the evening, the whole place was packed! It took ages to get a table only to discover that all the Chinese stalls had queues that were like 15 to 20 deep. Imagine that. There was no way I was going to queue for food. I only eat when I am hungry, and when I am hungry I have no patience to queue. Left with no other choice, I went to the Malay stalls instead. At least they had no queues and had food left. I know I sound like a spoiled brat when I talk like that, but I don't burst a brain cell nor kick up a fuss, I just move on to other options.

Sunday was... how should I put it...? Death defying-ly thrilling? Yeah, that would be an apt description. Stared impending death in the face but made it out alive. Man... What an experience.

There I was, out on the sea and far away from civilisation having a time of my life zipping around on my board. All of a sudden, an unexpectedly strong gust slammed into my sail causing me to lose control. The next thing I know, I was catapulted off the board, through the air and into the sea with a slam. Okay, I thought, that happens often enough, no big deal. But what I didn't expect was to be trap under the sail.

In all my eight years of windsurfing, I usually get flung over my equipment never beneath it. When I tried to break through the surface of the water, I ran smack into my sail. "Shit!" I thought. Tried moving left and right to no avail, I was effectively caught beneath the sail and there was no way I could push up against it.

Monofilm windsurfing sails are made to be strong and relatively long-lasting. When rigged taut and tight, it forms a very effective barrier to catch the wind, or in my case, bury me with absolutely no pocket of air to breathe from. Damn! Soon enough, I ran out of air and started panicking which of course led me to take in water instead of air. But somehow, I instinctively levelled my body and gave two or three strong kicks. Breaking the surface this time, I found myself a short distance away from my rig sputtering and coughing out sea water. Swimming back, I managed to clamber onto my board and sucked in more air.

Looking at my sail, I realised that if I had followed the batten lines on it, I could have brought myself to safety. But I panicked instead. "Fuck!" I thought to myself, "why the fuck did I fucking panic? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" People only drown to their death when they panic and can't think properly to get themselves out of a situation. With all my experiences, I shouldn't have panicked.

But then again, I have never found myself in that situation before. Damn! If I had drowned out there, no one would have known. The shoreline was miles away, all the ships were anchored far from where I was and there wasn't anyone around me at the time.

Quickly composing myself, I shook off the trauma, hauled up my sail and continued my speed thrill for the next hour or so. No point letting that spoil my day right?

Well at least now I know what drowning feels like. An experience to add to my broken bones, cracked head, drifting around in the middle of Indonesian waters in darkness with no refuge in sight, etc, etc.

The good thing about the weekend? My phlegm-boyant (runny) nose is no longer that phlegmy after two adrenaline pumping days of windsurfing. :-D