It was deep winter in Cactus Bay, and the usual crowd had gathered. From all over the world, they met on the beach, boards in hand, catching up since they'd seen each other last. They say she was quiet that day, that she stood apart. Like all of them, she kept her eyes on the waves. When the wind picked up, they made for the water, ready to catch a wave. The long winter day had provided good surf. The sun was kissing the horizon, some of the crowd had drifted away, and others were looking inland. A shout pulled their eyes back to the surf. She was out there, heading for where a monster wave was building.
Everyone remembers it differently. Some say when the wave broke, she was gone. Others saw her deep in the barrel, saw her laughing as it closed around her. Those who were nearest insist they saw her surf on, like the barrel would roll on forever.
Her board never surfaced. They say she's still riding that wave, deep in the tube. If you catch a great wave and go deep in the barrel, you might see her there, still riding the eternal wave.