I always thought it’d be awesome to learn how to surf. As a teen, I used to skateboard a lot and I’ve always loved being near the water. So, it only made sense that I’d probably like surfing. Earlier in the year, I decided that this would be summer I learned how to do it.
I made the mistake of thinking that, since I was good at skateboarding back in the day, I’d be a good surfer now. Turns out, that’s absolutely not the case – I suck.
Not only were my skateboarding skills non-transferable, I also learned that I have absolutely no natural talent for surfing. Not a drop.
The first time I paddled out was with an instructor. I want you to capture the first image that comes to mind when I say, “surfer dude.” Got it? That’s Zach, my instructor and surf-shop owner.
Zach’s got shoulder-length blonde hair and sun-licked skin with a smile that you dads are going to want to keep your daughters away from. He’s about ten years younger than me – maybe a little more – and has ridden waves all over the world.
Me and Zach.
After explaining the basics of surfing and showing me how to stand up on the board from the safety of the shore, Zach and I paddled out into the water. Out past where the waves were starting, we sat on top of our boards looking for a good one to try and catch. Well, Zach sat – I just kind of wobbled around, trying not to fall over.
We watched wave after wave form out in the ocean and work its way to the shore until Zach spotted a good one. “You ready?” he asked. “As ready as I’m gonna be,” I replied. “Then paddle, paddle, paddle!” Zach yelled.
I did my best to remember what he’d told me on the shore: chest up, feet together, paddle hard and, as soon as you feel the wave on the back of the board, stand up. I paddled as hard as I could and when I heard Zach yell, “Pop up,” I got up to my feet – or, ya know, tried to.
Splash!!!
I went flying into the water, head first. I’d caught my first wave, but not the way I wanted to: I caught it right in the face.
That was just the appetizer, though. When I finally found my way to the surface, after flailing my arms around frantically underwater, my head popped out just as the next wave was crashing in. But, it wasn’t alone: It had my surfboard along for the ride and I caught it right in the face.
Well, that’s a lesson I don’t want to learn twice. Getting hit in the face by an 8-foot surfboard being pushed by a three-foot wave hurts – a lot. And that was with a semi-foam board. If it was wood or hard plastic, I would’ve had a broken nose.
It was in that moment that I felt more humble than I think I ever had before. Well, humble and out-of-breath. Getting knocked around by wave after wave really takes a lot out of you!
I love being in, on, or near the ocean.
The power of the ocean is beyond awesome and that needs to be remembered at all times when out on the water. That first attempt at riding a wave reminded me that nature truly gives zero fucks and that I must be aware of and respectful to it at all times.
After taking control of my board, reflecting on what’d just happened for a moment, and catching my breath, I got back on and paddled out. A minute later, I was chasing a wave and Zach was telling me to “Pop up” again. I tried to pop up but instead flopped down into the water, ass first this time.
For the next hour-or-so, I repeated the following over and over again about fifty times: paddle out, find a wave, “Pop up,” fall down, catch breath, and get back on the board. I was sore as shit and tired as fuck. Getting knocked around by the ocean takes a lot out of a man. Especially when he’s been up for twenty-six hours and has had a bad cold for the past few days.
I was determined to do it. I almost said “fuck it” that day but I really wanted to learn how to surf and I didn’t want to put it off. You know how that goes: You put something off, then you put it off again, and then your life goes by and you never do it. When I get something in my head, I make it happen.
Tired, hungry, and frustrated, I paddled out for what must’ve been my fiftieth time. I spotted a good wave, started paddling as fast as I could, Zach yelled, “Pop up!,” and, this time, I actually did – I stood up on the surfboard and I rode my first wave.
What an amazing feeling! For those few seconds that I was riding that wave, nothing else in the world mattered. All my frustration and discomfort disappeared. I was in the zone. Total flow. It was one of those moments that you wish you could relive over and over again.
Riding the wave to the end, I hopped off the board into the water and threw my hands up in the air. “Fuck yeah!” I yelled with a big, stupid smile on my face. “Gnarly, isn’t it?” Zach asked, yelling from out on the water. Totally gnarly, dude. Totally.
We stayed out in the water for a little while longer that day. I rode a couple more waves and had about ten more wipeouts. After having ridden my first wave, the wipeouts were much less frustrating. The satisfaction of doing what I set out to do that day eclipsed all the frustration and disappointment. I could finally call myself a surfer.
I’ve gone surfing without an instructor a few times since then. The first time, I went down to the end of a long beach. There’s a beach named Long Beach in Massachusetts but I’m pretty sure this one’s longer. The further down you go, the bigger the waves, the fewer people there are.
When you get on the beach, there’s a big shark warning sign. It basically says, “There are sharks in these waters. Swim at your own risk.” One of the first things people usually say when I tell them I’ve taken up surfing is, “But aren’t you afraid of sharks?” I always proceed to say that, not only am I not afraid of sharks, I think it’d be fucking awesome to get bit by a shark and live. You’d forever be the guy with the coolest story in the room. Of course, I don’t actually want to get bit by a shark – but it would make for one hell of a story.
I found a good spot near the end of the beach and paddled out. Once I got out past where the waves were starting, I sat up on my 9-foot long board. I wanted to watch the waves for a few minutes to get an idea of how and where they were breaking.
Then, I saw a fin in the water about five feet away from me.
The theme from Jaws started playing in my head and, for a second, I froze. “What do I do?” I thought to myself. “I paddle to the shore as fast as fucking possible, right? Or am I supposed to make a lot of noise and try to appear as large as possible? No, that’s bears. Get to the shore!”
I laid down on my board and started furiously paddling toward the shore. A wave caught me, giving me a nice boost. It would’ve been a pleasant ride had I not been thinking the whole time that I could get chomped by a shark at any second. I was also thinking about all the people I’d told I want to get bit by a shark and all the I-told-you-so’s I was going to get if I survived an attack.
I hopped off my board into about two feet of water and ran to the shore, dragging my board along with me. Nearly out of breath, I looked out into the ocean to see if I could spot the shark. Before long, I did – I found him. But, for a shark, he looked an awful lot like a seal flapping around in the water.
I literally laughed out loud as an elderly couple on their morning walk passed by me. They must’ve thought I was crazy… and they wouldn’t have been wrong.
It wasn’t a shark in the water: It was just a seal. But then I realized that I don’t know anything about seals. Are they friendly or do I have to worry about that fucker trying to bite my dick off when I’m out in the water?
Seals are friendly… right?
I’ve been to three different sea lion shows in the past year and they seem friendly enough. And seals and sea lions are very similar, right? That was my logic at the time. I decided to go back out on the water and try to catch some waves.
I paddled out and that seal came over to me again, about five feet away. He splashed around in the water, putting on a show for me while I sat on the board, surveying the waves. Every time I paddled out, he’d come over to me and start flapping around. I don’t know if he wanted to play or if that’s how seals say, “Get the fuck out of my water.” Either way, he didn’t try to bite my dick or anything else so I came to the conclusion that seals are cool.
For now, at least.
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