Sounds like a tough day.
Mine took me almost a mile downshore, as I swam perpendicular to the shoreline and plane out to keep the rip tide off me.
I was tired and once I reached the shore I ran back to my friends who wanted to know why I swam all the way past the natural bridge.
I blew it off, knowing I got lucky to have been trained on that just a week before and told them what happened.
I was known as “Idiot”, respectfully, for the rest of they day as we scoped out girls on the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk.
Fried artichoke hearts and french fries where so damn good that day.
Worked up an appetite...
I was the exact opposite of the others, swimming way out relaxed feeling like the Ocean water was my comfy bed. That really felt good, to feel like I mastered the Ocean,
That next year I had hardly swam at all
I was gasping for breath and those huge waves would crash and shove me under and it took time to figure out which ways was up to get some air..
I would reach the surface and breath fast for ~ 30 seconds ??? before the next one hit again.
Only my experience at past swimming when in better shape saved me.
My exact thought was 'If I panic now I will die' I now recall.