The waves churned and swirled, frothing with whitecaps.

My chest heaved futilely as I struggled to draw breath, and waves churned all about me.

From a hilltop beside a sheltered cove, Blade watched the sea and sky both turn dark and twenty-foot waves churn against the shore.

Her stomach churned, as surely as the waves had churned throughout the gale.

Down in the sea beyond the cliffs, the dark waves were churning ever higher.

Even larger waves were churning in from the ruined Santa Monica breakwaters over ten miles away.

Then it had passed over, a wave of scorched air churning behind it, the roar slowly receding.

In a tumbling, tossing confusion he finally came to rest, somehow hugging the trunk of a huge tree, while the wave churned, and finally receded.

The waves churned before him and he felt the rocking of the deck and he made it into a chant.

So what do you do when the waves are churning while a swimmer is doing a butterfly?