Think of a 70-foot wave. It rises out of the water like a possessed mountain. If you close your eyes to it, your mind still sees it because of the ferocious sound. It curls, creating a perfect temporary barrel that plunges towards the shore with the weight of the ocean behind it.
There’s a tiny dot on top of this giant wave. It glides gracefully over the top and down into the barrel, a little white trail following it.
That dot is Laird Hamilton.