On a blustery and cold February day, my friend R. and I paddled out at Davenport Landing. It was a little ominous out there, the water a steely grey, low clouds, nobody out. For awhile, everything went fine, we were catching crumbly but fun 5' lefts, but I never felt entirely comfortable out there. The swell kept building, a slight rain came in, and it was colder than a well digger's ass. Then we saw something that my blood freeze. This big clean-up set came rolling in, at least 7-8'. The first wave was breaking way out on the reef, and it was pretty clear our afternoon was not going to get any warmer. That would not been cause for any great alarm, but on that wave, riding what looked like an ancient single-fin long board, was this guy in a short suit!! Before diving under the white wall about to hit us, I sneaked a look at R., who looked like he just saw, well, a ghost. There had been nobody in the water. There was absolutely no reason for anyone to sit that far outside. Riding in these in a short suit was unthinkable. After popping back up, we immediately scanned the beach. Nothing. No trace. At that point, we were totally spooked and paddled in. No footsteps on the beach, no car parked on D.Landing Rd. And no one in the water.

This story is true. Does anyone have any theories or similar experiences?