I nearly drowned in September 2012 in Portugal. I was touring on my motorbike, and had been riding up the coast for hours in the blazing sunshine. Late afternoon, and the sea was so inviting, I HAD to stop and take a dip. The beaches were close to deserted at that time of year, so I found a solitary spot where the road was close to the shore, piled off the bike and stumbled towards the water, shedding leathers as I went. There were waves, but nothing spectacular, and I am a fairly strong swimmer. All I had to do was get in up to my thighs and dive into the oncoming surf - easy!
Except it didn't happen that way. I got in, withstood a couple of waves standing up, then struck out to get as far as I could before the next breaker. It turns out that I'm not as powerful or quick a swimmer as I thought, and that next breaker caught me and threw me back towards the beach, tumbling over and over. I hit my head, but didn't panic, all I needed to do was hold my breath and wait for the wave to lose its grip on me, I was only inches deep and would easily bob to the surface.
But, I felt the wave change, into an incredibly strong suction as the water drew back out again, and I was dragged back with it, the sand and gravel, held in a crouch. I managed to get my head upwards and broke the surface, taking a deep breath. Keep calm, keep calm, just get out into the swell, or even back up the beach - just MOVE! I couldn't move though, the suction was keeping me from stretching my legs and kicking out, and there was no way I was getting back onto the beach either. I looked up in time to see a dark wall of water curling over towards me and BAM, I was hit again, tumbling over and over underwater. The cycle repeated itself, but with me being unable to get such a good gulp of air.
The third time, I seemed to be under a lot longer, couldn't discern which way was up, and as the suction dragged me back out along the floor once more, all I could think was "You twat, you are going to end up on one of those 'Hilarious Deaths' vids, because I had just jumped off the bike and left the GoPro running, facing the beach.
I remember accepting my time had come and how pissed off I was to die in such a stupid way, all my own fault. Some lucky fellow would score themselves a nice motorbike with the key in the ignition, and the only clue to my fate would be my stinky leathers found on the beach. Great, just fucking great.
Then, the rythm of the sea missed a beat, the next wave didn't hit me when expected. I got a good breath, got my heels into the sand, pushed back and managed to claw my way out of the danger zone, out of the surf and up the beach.
I was shattered, my head was spinning, and I knew I had come within seconds of death. I had captured everything on film too, and it is the most undramatic, unspectacular footage you can imagine. Just goes to show how mundane death really is for the vast majority, whether it is dying in our sleep, or drowning on a foreign beach. No memorable last words, no brave last stand, just here one minute and gone the next.