OP shoot was harrowing for columnist
LAGUNA LIFE
When OP told me that I would be flying to Puerto Vallarta last
fall to shoot the 2003 ad campaign for them along with the rest of
the team -- Tim Curran, Holly Beck, Sean Taylor, Greg Long, Matt
Beachum, Erica Hosseini and Bron Huesenstamm -- I couldn’t help but
laugh. After all, I had only been with OP for maybe two weeks, and
they were already sending me on a trip.
Obviously, I was pretty stoked, but there was something else. ...
I had a strange feeling about this trip? Nervous? Anxious? I couldn’t
put my finger on it. I just remember remarking to my girlfriend,
Dominique, “I have a strange feeling about this trip,” and left it at
that.
When I arrived in Puerto Vallarta, it was different from what I
had imagined, actually it would be days before I saw my first fancy
hotel on the beach. That was the vision I had. Puerto Vallarta --
Fancy beachfront hotels complemented by palm trees and warm water,
topped off with a sunset mai tai or two, with umbrellas.
However, this vision was only in my head and never proved worthy
enough to become my reality. Our first couple of days were spent in
Punta Mita, at the home of Sean Taylor’s parents, Debbie and Dave.
They had a nice spread up on the hill that overlooked the little
village below. They even had a swimming pool. The funny thing is, I
never actually went in that pool, as strange as that sounds now.
Each day would start at around 7 a.m. I would walk into the
Taylors’ living room and laugh, thinking to myself that this was good
living. I looked at the table of food that was prepared each day by
our two chefs. One night a local guy (who owned his own restaurant,
cleverly called “Fish Taco”) cooked dinner for us: shrimp tacos, fish
burritos, rice and beans. It was a heavenly dinner to match the first
couple of days.
We would get a surf in every day as we doubled as models. My
second day in Punta Mita, the day before the rest of the crew
arrived, we surfed in water so warm and fluffy you could bath in it
for hours. I rode a six-five single fin that worked small carving
miracles in those head-high waves. Everything was real smooth.
Even on the glassiest days, the wind can come up real quick and go
from smooth to rough in a matter of minutes. The first news of
hurricane Kenna came Wednesday morning. I can’t remember much except
hearing a few people talking about Kenna throughout the day. They had
been keeping track of it on the weather channel. No one was too
concerned about it. After all, a hurricane had never hit Puerto
Vallarta in its history, and we were certain this one would miss as
well.
The next day, Timmy, Bron, Matt and myself stayed behind at the
house while the others went out and did their shoots for the day. We
watched the weather channel all day in between everything else that
was on. For most of that day, we were kind of laughing about it,
until we noticed that Kenna had been upgraded from a Category 4
hurricane to a Category 5 and was headed right for us. So right for
us that the weatherman was drawing arrows on the screen that were
pointing directly at us.
Someone remarked, “the only thing missing is the address of this
house.” I was laughing my butt off when I heard that, and it still
sounds funny now. In the middle of all this, we lost our two chefs
and Jennifer Lightfoot of OP. They had opted to get out of town
before Kenna came calling.
That night, we had made the decision to get out of Punta Mita and
get closer to the airport instead of staying and perhaps getting cut
off by flooding or falling debris. There was only one road leading to
and from Puerto Vallarta and that was not a risk worth taking.
We pulled out of town at around 9:30 p.m. and arrived in Puerto
Vallarta at about 11 p.m. at the Sheraton. At that time, we all went
out to celebrate Sean Taylor’s 18th birthday. Up to this point, no
one was too concerned. Some were more stressed than others, but I
don’t think anyone could envision what was about to happen.
I awoke the next morning to the sound of wind blowing and looked
out the glass door. It was dark gray and raining, and our hotel sat
right on the beach. Bron was sleeping in the bed next to me and I
began throwing stuff at him as was typical. He didn’t really respond,
so I went downstairs, got a cup of coffee and walked out on the
beach.
The wind was blowing sideways -- an eerie sideways. Kenna was on
his way. It was now just a matter of time. People were actually
eating in the hotel’s beachfront bungalow restaurant as though it
were just another day, with no sign or hint of a hurricane coming our
way.
* This is the first of a two-part story of columnist James
Pribram’s adventure in Puerto Vallarta through hurricane Kenna. JAMES
PRIBRAM is a Laguna Beach resident, professional surfer and
co-founder of “They Will Surf Again,” a nonprofit foundation
assisting people with spinal cord injuries. He was also a member of
the Water Quality Advisory Committee.
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