Fishin fishin fishin

Had an exciting fishing experience yesterday. Cobain and I went to a sweet isolated spot on some rocks that jut into the sea, that takes about 20 minutes to get to via scrambling over monster rocks. We fished during the afternoon, catching a few pitiful small bait fish to be used for squid fishing at night. Instead of playing with our hat lights and staring at the gorgeous sundown scenery in front of us, we should have been concentrating on the full-moon-crazy tide that was greedily eating up the land bridge behind us. When we finally did turn around and realize that we were marooned on a shrinking island of our own stupidity, we swore heartily like fishermen and packed up the masses of gear in record time.
We then had 4 options:
1. Stay on the little cliff island and hope the tide goes back out. Not an attractive option, as we were out of beer.
2. Chance running/jumping across what was left of the land bridge. Also not an attractive option, as the tide rushed through every few seconds, washing over the slippery rocks with an extra 5 feet of swell.
3. Swim across a deep pool with slippery sides. No good, as I didn't want to get wet.
4. Leap to freedom. In the middle of the pool there was an exposed, slippery-sided rock the size of a yoga mat calling to us. It was a 6 foot jump across water, about 3 feet lower than the rock we were on. Once on that rock, the other side of the pool was reachable with another short jump.

So what did we so? Remember that it was pitch black, everything was slippery/wobbly, and were were both lugging way too much bulky gear. The Korean fishermen had long-since abandoned the rocks, so there was no chance of help.
I gave my gear to Cobain and was seconds away from jumping to the yoga mat, when I had a vision of my front teeth being pushed violently and suddenly into my skull. I turned around and tried to figure out option 2. I sat on the edge of a painful volcanic rock, my legs dangling over the first of the slippery little rocks I had to cross. WHAM! A swell pounded in, soaking me to the ass, and threatened to pull me out. As it retreated, I aimed my hat light down and leap-frogged over the series of almost-gone rocks, and made it to the other side, stunned that I hadn't slipped. Moral of the story? We rock and are invincible action heroes.