The first day of December, in the year 2011, will be a day I won't soon forget.

Though it started off as a day like any other day when the surf is good, it ended with me in the Emergency Room dealing with some serious pain. And I'm talking about serious pain. So just what the hell am I really talking about?

Let me take you through my day, shall we?

I checked the cams in the morning and saw that the surf had cleaned up from the day before and it was looking good. Chest high with bigger sets and just clean as a whistle. It was hollow enough for me to bring both boards. My long and short. I mean if it was hollow and big enough to ride the shorter board, that's what I'm doing. And when I pulled up at the Wall, it was all of that.

I was stoked. Clear blue skies, offshore wind, favorable tide, and more importantly, minimal crowds. I was on it. And I was leaving Big Black in the vehicle and riding the shorter board. By the time I paddled out to Ralph's Right's I was in a groove that only surfers know about. It was a positive cadence. My paddling felt good, my attitude was straight and positive. And when that first wave popped up on the outside sandbar and I swung and paddled everything felt good.

And when I pulled into that open barrel and came out? Well, I'd say this was going to be a good session. When you can get pitted on your first wave, it's always a good sign. Always has been, and it was today. So much in fact, that I saw a person who I thought I knew and said hello.

Turns out he was not that person. But I ended up talking to him anyway.

His name was Curtis and he had only been surfing for a few years. He told me that this day was the "101st day he had surfed." I asked him if he meant in a row? And he said "No", just that this was the 101st day he had gone surfing since he started. Not sure how he knew that. But then again, some of us keep journals. I have in the past. So while it's not common, it's certainly not that unusual to keep track of surf and surfing. Besides, what reason would he have to lie about something like that? None. So I congratulated him in his latest milestone. 101 days of surfing.

We got to talking about surfing in general. I told him about my first wave that morning and he admitted that he had yet to get barreled while surfing. He said he had gotten close, but never really gotten inside and made it back out. I told him that of all the moves in surfing, that "getting Barreled was timeless". There is nothing that compares to it. Now I'm sure some of you younger guys would disagree with me. That you might not put "getting tubed" in the highest form of surf stoked feelings. And that's cool.

I would never argue over something like that. I realize that getting tubed is not for everyone. And really, there are so many different variations of barrel riding on the planet. I mean Good Lord, it would be hard to compare the barrel I got at the wall on Thursday, to the barrel that Nathan Fletcher got at Chopes last month. Or to any given day at Pipeline for that matter. There are tubes, and then there are REAL tubes.

And honestly? I'm not about to compare anything I've ever gotten around here in tuberiding to anything on that other level of big wave barrel riding. I say this because I know my limitations. But I also know that feeling of riding a local barrel is still filled with incredible amount of surf stoke. Hell, I'll never tire of that feeling of getting shacked here in New England. Ever.

But my tube speak was enough to ignite the spark in Curtis to want him to try harder to get barreled. So for the next hour or so, I watched as he tried to find that open hole in the wave face to experience that "First Barrel". It did not happen while I was there. I hope he did get one later in the day.

While speaking with Curtis I said hello to another stranger as he paddled by. His name was Chris. Chris was a longboarder out catching a few waves before he had to head off to work. So here I am making friends with two surfers who I have never met before. They became friends with each other as well. How do I know this? I asked them both if they had known each other before today. They said no. And I was like..."Imagine that? I introduced you to each other, and now you are both surf buds..." I felt like Willy Wonka or some other absurd TV character. You know, Mr Rogers or something. Sharing the stoke. Sharing the love as it were. A Surf Bro Match maker.

I could not help but think how I have personally changed in the many years I've been doing this. I mean, there were times when I had gone surfing and never said a word to anyone while I was surfing. I would be so uptight. So protected of the breaks I was surfing that I lost sight of what surfing really is. I know a lot of you can relate to both sides of that coin. You have either been that mean spirited person, or have been on the receiving end of the bad vibes. In either case. It's not good.

But I have changed in the last handful of years. I do try and say hello to strangers.

And I'm sure there are a few of you who read this column who would agree. You would admit that I was friendly to you when we first met. To those I was an asshole to back in those dark days, I apologize. I was just trying to protect surfing from what I thought was the darkside of surfing. It was a mind set that has been around for decades and unfortunately, will always be a part of the lifestyle. From coast to coast. From ocean to ocean. The jaded mean spirited surfers will always be there. Hassling those just trying to enjoy the ocean. And while I understand why it exists, and the reason behind it, I'm also trying to make it better around here.

So I left my two new friends Curtis and Chris, and wanted to get some water shots.

I drove up the coast to a spot that I thought would be perfect for the empty wave shots. It had been a while since I shot in the water. It was July 27th. The day after my "Catch a Wave For Molly" campaign ended. That's a long time. So I figured what the hell? It's December 1st. A perfect day to shoot in the water. And it was. No one was out. The surf was about chest high and it was perfect. The best setting for empty wave images.

Now taking water photos requires a few things to make it happen.

First, you need a decent camera. Second, you need a decent wetsuit. And third, you need to know and understand the mechanics of how a wave breaks.

My younger guru surf photographer Brian Nevins has been a tremendous help for me these past five years or so. It was Brian who suggested I buy the water camera I bought. My Canon D-10 Power Shot water camera. With 12.1 megapixels the images are always sharp and clear. I've never regretted getting that camera. I used it all last year during my Molly Surf campaign. Brian's advice was solid.

He also was instrumental in giving me advice on getting the ultimate inside the wave photos that all surfers love. And let's face it, the Nevins photos of inside the wave are second to none around these parts. His simple advice was "You need to hang in there as long as possible." What he was referring to was, you need to tread water and go up the wave face and hold that camera steady as long as possible before the wave picks you up and thrashes your ass. I sort of already knew this. I mean, I had taken enough photos in my life. And I'd been in the water taking shots as well.

But Brian was successful enough in getting those perfect waves pics, so when he told me that, I held onto that advice as solid instructions from one of the best. My session was going well. I had taken a few shots and was getting good results. But I had yet to get that coveted shot. The Holy Grail pic. The inside the wave looking out photograph. I kept hearing his words in my head. "You need to hang in there as long as possible..."

Just then a set came, and I swam up to the bowl and waited.

I let the wave pick me up and I pointed the camera in the direction of where I thought the lip was going to throw over me. As I went up the wave face I felt the wave take hold of my torso and start to heave me forward. I waited and waited...and then I felt myself being thrown out and into the free air space. A place where there was no lip. There was No wave. Just me floating in open space.

Well, you know the old story. What goes up must come down. And I did come down.

I came down in about 6 inches of water. I came down hard. I came down feet first. And when I hit that hard packed sand, the impact was jolting. I went forward and slammed my shoulder into the sand. I thought I had dislocated my shoulder. I did not. But what I had done, was something far worse. It's just that I did not know this at the time. I drove my knee into the land of pain and discomfort. I had torn and ripped my ACL and my Meniscus. To make a long story even longer...

I stayed out in the water for another hour. Then I went home and took the Christmas lights out of the attic. I even put some up on the house. Then for whatever reason, I went out into the woods with just a little over and hour's worth of light left. It was not until I was deep into the swamp when I turned to place my back pack on a tree branch when I felt a sharp pain in my knee. I thought it was a cramp at first. I tried sitting down and then realized, this was not a cramp. And the pain went from bad to worse.

I was in a world of hurt. I looked at my watch. It was 4:15PM. What would normally take me about 20 minutes to get back to my vehicle, took me almost two hours. In the pitch black darkness. The walk back to my vehicle that night was something I won't ever forget. That pain. That excruciating pain was something I had never experienced before. Several times during that slow agonizing march back to my vehicle, I wanted to faint. I wanted to throw up. I was a mess. But I knew I had to keep going. I knew that if I stopped, I would be in trouble.

When I finally saw my vehicle and knew I was going to make it, I felt only slightly relieved. I knew that I had a long night ahead of me. I could not use my right leg. I had to lift myself into the Commander and drive with my left leg. My left leg!!! It was a night mare. And when my wife met me in the driveway and we had switch vehicles so she could drive me to the ER, the pain had entered a whole other level. The knee was toast. And well, you really need your knees for a whole bunch of stuff. Walking being the primary use. Followed by surfing. It's just uncomfortable to say the least.

So here it is Sunday afternoon. There was still good surf yesterday. And I really wanted to surf with my son Max. But could not. I'm sure there was still surf today. But the potential surgery, followed by months of Rehab are something I'm really not looking forward to. I mean hell who would be?

Not being able to put the lights on the house is another first for me. Watching as my wife Cory and daughter Noelle strung the lights out onto the shrubs and bushes was hard. And because she is in charge of the lights, she has refused to put lights on the house itself. I've been like Chevy Chase each year. I always do the house. It's one of my annual traditions. Ralph does the lights. I'm dad. That's my role. Instead, I had to sit there with the dog and watch. And though I complained, I knew I could not do anything about it. Tomorrow I'm heading in for my MRI's and I will know better where I stand ( no pun intended)...but one thing is for sure. My season is over.

And the worse part of all of this? I never did get that shot. The inside the wave pic?
Yea well, I never got it. I did shoot some photos that were worth posting, but the ultimate Brian Nevins pic...? That never happened.

So later that night when I looked back on the whole day. I thought about the positives. The first wave where I got barreled. The meeting of two new friends. And the few photos I did get in the water. Life is still good. Even with a torn ACL.

Speaking of good...The ASK CRACKIE SERIES is now into our 9th week. Crackie
is still very uptight about all things in surfing. This week he deals with a surfer who kept bailing his board instead of holding onto to it. Don't forget CRACKIE has his own Facebook page. If you have a question for Crackie no matter how absurd you might think it is, please email him directly.

Crackie's email: crackie@adlantic.

I know personally that he'd love to hear from you and I know he'd love to friend
you on Facebook.

Remember my friends...if things get tough, or you're feeling down. Head down to the ocean. Go for a surf...or if you're (now) like me just listen and watch the waves.

Because my mantra still holds true, especially during the holiday season.

"Surfing Heals ALL Wounds..."