Chad's Unplanned Journey :: The attack of the killer jellyfish



	I love my days off work. Every day off brings a new outlook on life. Today, somehow, was different. Stories of how your life flashes before you seconds before you die are not true. The 4th of August 2005 was to change my life completely. Twas a normal day off. I awoke at about 2 in the afternoon, went down to 'la scala' (joe's bar) and had some pasta. Nothing at all unusual about the day. I had planned to chill out on the beach and have a bit of a kayaking session with joe. Wind speed was high and blowing towards the west. The waves weren't massive, but big enough for me to break into a sweat whilst paddling. We cruised out of Peurto Deportivo (the marbella port) and out into the unknown. After spotting a boat, we decided to challenge our skills and headed off toward it. This we did and accomplished our goal.

	This isn't me and joe. It's not the kayak or marbella. I nicked the picture. sorry.
	Anyway. We turned around and picked a new destination. Approx. 2km down the coast was a pier. "Lets go there" Joe said. Male ego took over and I agreed - knowing full well that we would be about 5km from base. Not very far, but far enough to get back against tide and wind. Halfway to the pier, joe decided that we should paddle toward the beach to chill out. After spotting a space, we headed towards the sandy beach. Edging closer to the beach, the waves seemed to be getting bigger...

	"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit" I yelped. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhhh" joe screamed. We had caught a wave and we were heading towards the beach at a speed even superman would be concerned about. The kayak tipped. We fell out. I recall being underwater with joe landing on top of me and then I was struck by the kayak on my head. Unfortunately for us, we had managed to pick a really shitty beach with a bed of rocks underneath the water. I tried to stand up as the kayak was floating around us and I was trying to save the only paddle we had. Eventually we got washed ashore and made sure we were still alive. Marbella is a funny old place. Anywhere else and we would have been applauded by the crowded beach. Looking back, the sight of two grown men on a kayak - screaming and then crashing - would have raised a laugh in old blighty. This is marbella though. Anyway. Standing on the beach, joe and I were tring to work out how we were gonna get back out to sea, and furthermore, back home. The wind was picking up and so were the waves. Out of nowhere, I felt a stinging sensation on my hand. Looking around for a reason, I realised it was a jellyfish. There were millions of the bastards. The trouble with the beaches is the jellyfish. When the wind picks up, the waves bring them all into the coast. I have never been stung by a jellyfish until this day. If you have never been stung by a jellyfish, it hurts like hell. Some of them don't sting apparently, but talking to one of the locals, I was told that the purple ones in marbella are the most painful in the Med. Not one to be a pussy, we got on with it and got back in the sea to head back towards the port. We kayaked about 100 metres out when disaster struck - we were sinking. Panic set in. Water was filling the kayak at an alarming rate and we had to make a decision fast. We either try and paddle back in the hope that we might make it (bollocks), or we go back to the beach we had just left. We decided the 2nd option was probably for the best. Just when we thought we were gonna make it - disaster struck a 2nd time - we fell off. A couple of attempts to climb back into the kayak failed cos everytime we got on, we fell off beacuse it was full of water and impossible to balance. I was scared. Jellyfish infested waters surrounded us. I had been stung once and didn't want to get stung again. Who was I kidding though? We decided to hang on to the kayak and try and swim it back to the beach. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh you bastard" I screamed as one of the fuckers got me on the chest. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAArrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh" joe shouted as he got hit. This went on for about 20 minutes until we reached the beach. When we finally got out the sea, I had been stung about 7 times. Fuckers. Joe got off pretty light with a couple of stings.

	We ditched the kayak and walked back 2km back to the port - In agony. I love my days off. Apparently, legend has it that pissing on the wound will help. This is a myth. Vinegar, hot water and a stiff drink relieves the pain. To cut a very long story short - i'm still alive! Anyway, below are a few select pics of my war wounds...