Sometime over the past few weeks, marine forecasters have seen 60-plus foot waves and 60 mph winds leaving a dark purple—or red or green depending on the source—blob the size of Australia in the Southern Indian Ocean. People were told to leave the area. Surfers, however, did the opposite.

Murray Close, nicknamed Muzza, a member of the surf-community in Australia and Bali, passed away from cancer on June 24. Less than four days later, the "once-in-a-decade" swell began to roll up Western Australia towards Indonesia. Surfers christened it the #muzzaswell in his honor.

To those who live their lives according to vagaries of the sea, accurate weather forecasts are vital. While ships' captains tune their radios to hourly marine forecasts, surfers live on sites like Magicseaweed.com, where an article last Monday was headlined "Fly to Indo Now". Professional surfers like Australian Julian Wilson, and Luke Dillon, from Cornwall, England, dropped what they were doing—presumably surfing somewhere else—and caught a plane to Indonesia.

Labeled early on as a "perfect storm", the low-pressure system was spotted two weeks in advance of its arrival in surfing locales from the remote beaches of Western Australian to Bali's well-ridden shores, and on to Nias off northern Sumatra.

"What really makes this storm unique for Indonesia is how focussed [sic] the power is going to be," wrote Ben Freeston, Magic Seaweed's founder and forecaster. "There have been larger swells with lower periods. There have also been combinations of swell with more size and a higher peak period but for a single peak of energy this swell exceeds anything we can find in our decades of records right now."

If you had to read it twice to make heads or tails of it, you're not alone. The language of surf and swell remains opaque to those outside its lifestyle.

The problem with many forecasts is that they're easily misread and just as often wrong all together. This one, however, was clear as day and did not disappoint. You just had to be in the right place. Canggu, on Bali's southwest coast is a popular surf spot. But Sunday afternoon, it was the wrong place to be.

The rocky shore couldn't hold the size and power of the waves the storm system created. The swell was too big and Canggu was closing out (verb; where a wave breaks along its length all at once. Via.) Prospective surfers came, gazed, leaned, shielded their eyes and studied. A few tried to make do with waves that were frequently dumping (verb; Often caused by onshore conditions, where a wave will fold over in big sections, making it un-surfable. Ibid.) but quickly abandoned the big breaks. The only people really having a good time were beginners on oversized longboards catching the smaller and weaker secondary break and reporters, uninitiated into the cult of surf, drinking mid-afternoon beers on the beach.

The real action was down the coast at Uluwatu, known as 'Ulu' in the surf community, which is home to an 11th century Hindu temple to the supreme god of Indonesian Hinduism, one of the most sacred in Bali. Ulu, was where Murray Close would often paddle out, and this weekend it was home to one of the most sacred surfing breaks in the world. The word "epic" (adj; Top class surf or extremely good waves; description of an awesome wave or surf session. Ibid.) was thrown around like loose change on social media forums, and pictures featuring #muzzaswell filled Instagram feeds.

Thai Little, who grew up on the island and founded Bali Belly, a magazine and online community covering the world of Indonesian surfing, checked in on the action via webcam from Singapore (there is a huge network of surf cams across the world) and said via email that his site experienced a "big spike in traffic." He went on to say, "I haven't seen a swell like that since… I don't remember."

Muzzaswell left its fair share of carnage as well. Beyond the broken boards and snapped leashes, professional surfer and paddle-boarder Justin Holland fractured his femur on what may have been the biggest wave ever surfed in Australia. Holland had flown from his home near Gold Coast, New South Wales to remote Margaret River, south of Perth, and then another mile and a quarter offshore to a reef-break called Cow Bombie where he met with the 60 foot monster. He recounted his story to The Sydney Morning Herald and thanked a new wetsuit he was testing for likely saving his life.

Holland is not alone in his brush with an aquatic demise. The fraternities of surfers and sailors is so strong because both encounter so many near misses and lucky escapes. As Stu Nettle wrote in a dispatch for Swellnet.com, "We may all be out there surfing but when we realise we're surfing the same swell it brings a bit of brotherhood into the game." In a follow-up on the weather pattern, Freeston of Magicseaweed.com reported that #muzzaswell won't stop at Australia and Indonesia. By July 9th it will have continued on across the Pacific to Fiji and then to Puerto Escondido, Mexico. Murray Close would be proud.