Famous Amos - August 22, 2010

I’m famous!!  Okay, maybe not that famous, but today I made it on the surf report that a local surf shop provides through their website: http://www.mrsurfs.com/surf_report.php. 

Each day, the shop owner photographs a variety of spots along the beach so the locals know what the surf is doing.  He obviously photographs surfers when that’s an option but on days that it’s not good surf, he’ll just grab a shot or two of the beach. 

However, this morning was kind of a hybrid of the two: it was way too small for discerning surfers but, for a desperate one like me who’s lucky enough to have a boyfriend who will provide a push, it was a perfect day to get on Mr. Surf’s.  

Mr. Surf's Surf Report

I was so excited that I thought this should not only be shared with my family and close friends, but that it should also be displayed on my cube wall at work.  The same coworker who photoshopped my face on the guy with a broken board a few weeks ago decided he’d doctor up this next one with a breaching shark.  I guess it’s befitting, since Shark Week just finished up…

Duck Diving 101 - August 13, 2010

Ok.  I give.  Even a strong-willed girl like me will eventually figure out when to throw in the towel.  Maybe it's not in the cards for me to catch my own waves on this trip.  After all, I've only been surfing a month now and as I’ve been told a few times before, I may need to do a little expectation management. 

So I decided to use today’s session, the last one of the trip, to practice my duck dive.  This is the way that surfers push themselves and their boards under an oncoming wave while paddling out to the lineup.  

The duck dive is a necessity for surfing in waves that are too big to paddle up and over, and I just know this will make my getting out to the lineup significantly easier.  It’s so frustrating when I’m trying to paddle out and each oncoming wave picks me up and moves me back toward the shore.  Just as I recover from one face-smacking wave and begin making forward progress again, another one comes and I start all over again.

I did some reading online and it said to grab the nose of the board just before a wave comes and push it down at a 45-degree angle.  At the same time, push one foot down on the tail and lift the other foot up in the air, which will act as leverage to get the board down into the water.  After the wave passes overhead, allow the board to point back up so you can resurface and resume paddling immediately.  If you search images of duck dives on Google, you'll find some pretty cool shots like this one:





Seems simple enough.

Before the first wave, I get the board moving with a few quick strokes, then reach up to grab the rails (side of the board) right at the nose to push it down.  Oddly, the board barely moves. 

Let’s try this again, with a little more gusto this time.  I paddle a little harder, then really force the nose down.  Here's the result:

Now, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure this little move isn't going to get me under 6-foot waves.

I continue to try – harder and harder I try – but I show no improvement.  Holy smokes!  How is this so hard??  I mean, my board’s not a shorty, but at 7’6”, it’s not exactly a longboard either. 

After my last attempt, I’m so frustrated I actually get off my board and try to swim to the outside, towing it behind me via the leash.  This is the most inefficient way to get to the outside, and I haven’t done it since that fateful day off the coast of Massachusetts when I had borrowed a friend’s board to “try a little something called surfing.”

When Ted saw me swimming through the waves with Greenie trailing behind me impeding any real progress, he knew I was at my wits’ end.  So he swam over and offered to push me into some waves so I could at least score a ride or two before the vacation ended.  I didn’t put up a fight this time.  I was so emotionally defeated, and the only thing that would make me feel better was a little ride, whether or not I caught it on my own.

At this point, my expectations had been efficiently curbed – if I was able to pop up and ride for even just a few feet, I’d be happy – but I guess that’s right where fate wanted me.  Since I was so focused on trying to shove an obviously too buoyant board underwater, I was unaware that the winds had been backing off that afternoon.  And without those persistent west winds, things began cleaning up.  

With the first push Ted gave me, I not only popped up quite easily, I had my first true drop in.  This is a monumental moment in a beginner surfer’s journey.  Up until now, I’ve just ridden the waves’ white water straight to the beach.  But now, for the first time, I caught the wave before it broke, dropped into position, and actually rode horizontally (or at least at an angle) down the beach a little way.  It’s this riding parallel to the beach that gives way to longer rides, and unless you can master that as a beginner surfer, there’s no advancing to the next level.

I heard Ted cheering behind me and his daughter was clapping for me near the shore.  I was thrilled; I didn’t care that I needed a push to catch the wave.  This was an achievement that I wasn’t even looking for, and as I found out today, sometimes those are the best kind.

Swing and a Miss - August 10, 2010

We’re a few days into our vacation now and this place is an absolute paradise.  We’ve been playing tennis, catching up on summer reading, and of course surfing every chance we get. 

St. George Island

Each morning before breakfast, we check out the surf and plan our day accordingly.  As we venture back and forth to the coast, we take this small sandy trail through a pine forest that ends at the beach.  There’s nothing like being able to just walk our boards down to the gulf rather than have to load up the car and drive.  Our new way feels so…surf camp-ish. 

Perhaps I’m pretending this is a true surf vacation because each morning as we look observe the blown-out conditions that no real surfer would waste her time on, I suggest, “Why don’t we just try it?”  I just can’t imagine not surfing while we’re so close to the water! 

But it’s only gotten worse since we arrived.  The winds have been steadily blowing out of the southwest, which continues to chop up the waves, and the rip current gets stronger by the day.  Yesterday morning as I paddled out, my surf partners stayed on the shore and watched as I pointed straight out but got so pushed by the winds that I made a diagonal path through the water.   By the time I made it to the outside, I was 300 yards down the beach. 

And that’s another thing - there really is no “outside” right now since the surf is so chopped up.  So even though I was sitting outside the area where most of the waves were breaking, the occasional one would break right on top of my sad little head.  This of course agitated me considerably, particularly the times that the waves actually picked me up and flipped me over - board and

all - before washing me back to shore…where I had to start my paddle out all over again.

Not.  Happy.

But like most good Irish women, I can get a little bull-headed, even when I know it makes WAY more sense to give up.  I really wanted to start catching my own waves, so I talked myself into believing that if I just paddled hard enough, I would be successful.   

So the session was essentially a repeat of the first morning: paddle-paddle-paddle, pop up, nada.  I’m left there standing on the board. 

I tried it over and over again for what seemed like half a day (though I’m pretty sure it wasn’t much over half an hour) and with each failed attempt, I got more and more angry.  As I would fall backwards off my non-moving board, I’d let out a guttural yell that would only stop when my head smacked the water.

Ted offered to help a couple of times but I felt like that contradicted what I was trying to do: be able to surf independently.  But he still stayed out with me (I think he was worried I was going to exhaust myself to the point of drowning) and decided to snap these telling photographs.

Two words: 

Epic.

Fail.

Paddle! Paddle! Paddle! - August 8, 2010

Before breakfast, Ted's daughter and I were going to go for a jog but we decided to check out the waves before we began our trod through the muggy morning air.  According to the surf report, not much of anything was forecasted for the entire week, but a stiff southeast wind began blowing during the night so we were hoping that would push up some waves by the next afternoon. 

She and I walked a block to the gulf and right where our street dead-ended was a home under construction.  We skirted around the concrete beginnings of what will soon be the pool of some lucky beachfront homeowner, then hoisted ourselves up onto their unfinished boardwalk. 

What we saw when we got to the top of the boardwalk was almost magical.  There were waves—clean, pretty, and most importantly, big enough to catch without a push from someone.  We couldn't believe our luck!  While the run would have been good, we decided to can it in favor of grabbing our rash guards and boards.

We ran back down the boardwalk and jumped off the back where the stairs will eventually be built.   As we were trucking through the dirt-filled construction zone, the building contractor turned into the driveway.  We must have looked so guilty—like a couple of kids who had just tried out a potato gun on their neighbor's back porch.  Luckily he didn't question our trespassing, so a short time later we were paddling out. 

Ted decided to work with his daughter as it had been several years since her last time on a board and she wanted a refresher.  Plus, now that I've been surfing for a few weeks and have gotten comfortable with the pop-up, I've could continue working on paddling into my own waves. 

Something I've learned about paddling for your own waves:  It's significantly harder to generate enough speed in order to get in front of the wave.  It's surprising how much edge someone's push can give you.  With that extra speed, all you really have to focus on is your pop-up and keeping your balance until the wave is over.  But when you don’t have enough speed going into a wave, most of them will pass you by and you'll end up looking like an idiot standing up on your board as the wave moves on without you. 



Looking from the shore, this is me, now standing, as the wave passes by.



This was pretty much the experience of the entire morning.  I was only able to catch one wave, and that was at the beginning of the session.  This was such a tease because it showed me I was in fact capable of doing it, I just wasn't capable repeating it.  I tried to keep my frustration at bay because I didn't want to come across completely childish, but as the morning went on, I became more exhausted—therefore less patient—and I had to move down the beach to avoid ruining the surf session for everyone else with my expletives.



I’ve really got to figure this out.

Family Vacay - August 7, 2010

Today we arrived at what will be our home for the next seven days:  St. George Island. 

Ted's family spent a week here a few years ago and they have wanted to come back ever since.  So this morning, his youngest daughter came over from Pensacola; his mom, sister, brother‑in‑law, and their girls drove over from Jacksonville; and his brother-in-law’s sister flew up from Miami.  It’s a house full of people completely stoked about the week ahead. 

We brought plenty of beach toys and it was actually a little Clark Griswold when my boyfriend and his daughter arrived at my house to pick me up this morning.  My paddle board was on the roof of his SUV and our two surfboards were sticking out of the rear window.  A kayak was strapped to the top of her car and her board was poking out the back.  All we were missing was a fully utilized bike rack coming out of the trailer hitch and a Coleman stove visible through the side windows.

Everyone met up at the Blue Parrot for a round of conch fritters and some “cold drinks” (an expression borrowed from my father), after which we headed to the beach house.  Then after we unpacked, it was time to haul all the boards down to the beach.  The paddle board was just that, a haul, as its 48 pounds are cumbersome, but it was worth it because the paddle was a perfect way to kick off the week. 

The Yolo Yak paddle board

A few rain clouds had moved in and I paddled through the lightest of summer showers.  It reminded me of the summers of my youth, playing out in the rain with my older brothers and not caring that we were getting soaked.  There’s just something about paddle boarding that makes you feel like a kid.  I don’t know what it is, but it’s like when you’d still be racing around on your bike after the street lights had come on, and any minute you knew you were going to hear your dad’s whistle telling you it’s well past time to be inside.

I can’t believe we get to spend a week doing stuff like this.  It’s going to be a wonderful vacation.

Don't Break Your Board - July 31, 2010

Okay, so ever since I got my new board, I’ve had this weird fear of breaking it.  I believe it began after I excitedly told my ex-surfer coworker that I was the proud owner of my very own board and his response was, “Good for you; don’t break it.”

It’s just, the board is really nice, and it was a gift.  How horrible would that be to break most definitely the coolest gift I’ve ever gotten?!

Now, as it's been explained to me in an attempt to calm this completely irrational fear, my board is made of epoxy, which is significantly stronger than the traditional foam boards with fiberglass coating.  When you hear of a surfer breaking their board, there are several factors in play that are simply not present in my surfing.

a)      They were surfing traditional foam boards that are, as I mentioned above, far less rigid than epoxy boards.

b)      They were surfing in waves that had considerably more power than the typical waves found in the Gulf of Mexico.

c)       They were pushing their boards to limits beyond my imagination by doing maneuvers I’ll only ever see in Surfer magazine.

So I guess I can relax then.  Except that, as I began feeling better about the whole situation, my fear‑inducing coworker sent me this photo:

Yep, that’s my face photoshopped onto a surfer’s body…on the upside, look how tan my legs are!

A Quiet Morning on the Water - July 24, 2010

If all I wanted to do was go surfing before, it’s really all I want to do now that I have my own board.  The first weekend after getting Greenie was packed with things I had to do but where there’s a will, there’s a way.

We scurried down to the beach around 6:30 on Saturday morning so I could make it to the baby shower I was co-hosting for my best friend at 9:00.  It was a pretty small day, so we walked up the beach about 10 minutes to a spot where the waves were breaking slightly larger than elsewhere. 

As we walked along, the sand squeaked beneath our feet and Ted attempted to educate me on beach breaks versus point breaks.  I was trying to take it in, really I was, but I was just so darn excited to be carrying my new board…my own board. 

There she is - "Baby Blue"

So yeah, not having to worry about that was a relief, and it was nice to be able to easily walk along the water’s edge and just enjoy the morning.  Because the waves were so small, they merely lapped onto the shore, which made for an unusually quiet beach. 

One of the best things about Greenie is that it’s not only lighter than Ted’s board, it’s narrower too so I can more easily tuck it under my arm.  When I carried his board, I could just baaarrely get my fingertips around it.  So each time I walked with his board down the road to the beach access, I was afraid I was going to drop it on the asphalt.  The thought of that killed me, especially since he commissioned a shaper in San Diego to make the dang thing.  I know—that board cost him more than half of what I paid for my first car.  Granted, that “older Volvo” was older than me, but still!

Once in the water, he took some pictures of me paddling out.  The gulf was especially clear that morning; sometimes I wonder how the Caribbean could be any prettier than these aqua waters.  As we waited for a large enough wave for him to push me on, I lay on the board and honestly, I just enjoyed floating there.  I know it sounds like the most passive “surf” experience ever, but it was just so nice.  I took in the beautiful surroundings, I appreciated the quiet beach, and I admired my new board as I traced the letters, N-S-P, on the logo stamped at the top of the board. 

Mix that with some nice little rides, and you have yourself a pretty decent way to wake up.

 

The Start of a Quiver - July 20, 2010

After my Roxy failure, I made two determinations: 

1)   Don’t get a soft-top.  While it would give a little if it were to sail into my noggin, my knees couldn’t take it.  After an hour on the thing, they looked like those of a nine-year-old who had fallen off her bike. 

2)   Don’t get something too narrow.  Admittedly, trying to remain upright while sitting on the board was a fun way to stay occupied when waiting for a wave (I mean, who doesn’t like a challenge?), but it wasn’t so fun when I’d miss a wave because I had inadvertently rolled over right in front of it.

So I decided to look at some boards at a surf shop to see what they had in stock.  But, before I had a chance to go, Ted stopped by Mr. Surf’s to get some recommendations. 

“The salesman suggested a fun shape for your height and skill level,” he told me.  “Maybe we should borrow a board to see if it’s a good fit.”

I liked the idea; that way we’d know what to keep an eye out for in the used board inventory, but the only problem with borrowing a store’s board is that you can’t put wax on it.  Still, I could at least get an idea of how the size worked.

The next day, there was some small surf—perfect for a push session—so he was going to pick up the board from the shop and we’d hit the beach after work.  He came into my cube just before I packed up for the day and as we were chatting about something, he pulled out of his pocket a bar of what looked to be soap and started smelling it…intensely.  Now, he does the same thing with citrus (something about growing up in Miami and smelling the grapefruit hanging from the trees in his grandparents’ yard), so I blew past it at first, but then the deep inhalations became distracting so I asked what he was smelling. 

“It’s Mrs. Palmer’s surfboard wax, tropical scented,” he explained between sniffs.  I assumed it was for his board since we couldn’t wax the one I was going to demo, but he ended that assumption when he told me it was for me.

“What do you mean it’s for me?” I asked cautiously.  “What did you do?” 

He didn’t answer my question, nor did he let me peak in the surf bag in the back of his car as we drove to the beach, but when we got to the sand and unzipped the bag, there it was—my new board.  I can’t explain it, but I just knew it was going to be a keeper.  It was a real board, no soft top here; it had a good size to it (7’6”), but most importantly, it was GREEN—my favorite color! 

He showed me how to wax the board so that the riding area is evenly covered and it was during this time that I was able to admire the beauty of it.  At the nose of the board, it’s lime green with a dark green trim and it fades to white with yellow trim at the tail.  NSP is the company that made it and it’s more durable than traditional boards because it’s made with epoxy instead of fiberglass-covered foam, which gets dents and dings relatively easily.

Once the board was covered with a healthy layer of wax, we walked down to where the waves were breaking nicely.  It was definitely a small day but having someone push you can compensate for some pretty weak waves.  When the first surfable wave came, my boyfriend told me when to start paddling and then shoved the board.  When I felt the small wave start to pick up the back of my board, I popped up and rode it in toward the beach.

The board felt great!  It’s a foot smaller than what I’ve been learning on so it’s faster to paddle and faster to ride, and it feels a little more maneuverable.  I rode wave after wave until the sun sank down below the horizon and people started packing up their beach chairs.  I can’t believe I have my own surfboard.

I think I’ll call her “Greenie.”

The 7'6" NSP Funboard

 

 

Practicality Schmacticality - July 16, 2010

I’m a pretty practical person.  I still pack my lunch even though I left elementary school a long time ago, I once paid my electric bill with money my dad and stepmom gave me for an Easter dress; and I bring my own, typically healthy, snacks to the movies.  So when the idea of me having my own surf board was brought up, I thought, but those are expensive and we can just share.

Yet, the idea did appeal to me.  I never spend money, real money, on anything indulgent like this, and my parents gave me cash for my birthday a year ago specifically intended for something recreational.  So after mulling it over for a while, I decided I would start perusing local shops for a gently used board.  

The Roxy Foam-Top

However, Ted had a different idea and two days after my birthday, he found potentially the icing on the cake.  When I went over to his house that afternoon, I set my purse down before walking into the kitchen.  When I turned back around, his eyes were a little wide but I didn’t think much of it.  We chatted a bit; then when I went to get something out of my bag, it caught my eye.  There was a big, pink, Roxy surf board hanging from the wall practically screaming “Happy Birthday Maureen!!!” 

“Omigod!” I blurted out.  “What is this??  What is this on your wall??” 

He teased me about not having the self-proclaimed could-be-a-spy-if-I-wanted-to sense of observation and wished me a happy late birthday.  It was an adorable 7-foot soft‑top which he borrowed from a shop that sells used boards and it was mine if I liked it.  So we took it for a spin the next day. 

Even though I tried to look casual as I carried the board down to the beach, it was all I could do not to break into a trot to get to the water’s edge.  As I paddled out, I felt more anchored on the board because it wasn’t as smooth as the fiberglass one I’d been learning on.

Soft-top boards are made with rugged foam so they are easier for learning (plus if it bonks you in the head, it doesn’t hurt as much), and it has more friction so you never have to worry about slipping around on it when paddling.  Also, we thought a soft top would be more buoyant so it would also be easier to paddle out.  I didn’t notice much of a difference with that but then again, all I was focused on was catching that first, perfect wave on my new board.

There was a decent easterly wind so I had to keep paddling down the beach to hold my position, but it quickly became obvious that paddling was going to be easier than sitting on the board because the darn thing kept rolling over!  I don’t know what it was.  Maybe because this board was much shorter than the 8’6” that I’d gotten used to and quite a bit narrower, or maybe it was the shape of the board, but I just couldn’t stay on the thing!

A Prime Example of a Pearl

What began as funny quickly turned into frustrating because when a potential wave would come, I’d try to turn my board to face the shore but instead I’d roll it over and miss the damn wave!  Then on the waves that I did get in position for in time, I ended up pearling the nose into the water when I went to pop up.  This would send me face forward into the wave where I’d inevitably get tumbled about before I could come up for air.

To make matters worse, my typical knee bruises I’ve grown used to since picking up this sport were becoming more like mild road rash.  I realized it was from rubbing against the foam top, and the salt water only added to the problem.  Even my ridiculous boy-length board shorts weren’t going to protect my knees from the strawberries that were forming.

But if it’s one thing I have, it’s heart (or a stubborn nature), so I kept trying for that illusive perfect wave.  Over and over again I tried and I was either too far back on the board causing the wave to roll up under me or, as was more often the case, I was too far forward and I would pearl the nose, ending all chances of a ride. 

On what ended up being my last wave, I got impatient and leaned too far forward.  The front of the board dipped into the water and the back of it got lifted up by the wave…into the washer machine I went.  As I was getting “maytagged” underneath the wave, the oh-so buoyant board shot straight up out of the water spinning around, which caught the attention of everyone on the beach who were now appreciating the Roxy logo in all of its bright-pink glory.

After I paddled back to the beach, all the while focusing on not rolling off the board and embarrassing myself in front of the tourists, I picked up the “soft” top and hobbled up to the surf bag.  I finally got to survey my scraped-up knees up close and it became clear:  maybe this isn't "my board" after all.

Lesson Two - July 9, 2010

All I’ve been thinking about lately is getting back out on a board.  Let’s face it, I’m hooked.

Luckily it wasn’t but a few days after my first lesson that the winds kicked up a little surf, so one morning before work I had Lesson Two.  It was fun loading up the board just after sunrise and driving down to a quiet beach while most people were still sleeping.  It felt so…surfer-esque.  I mean, this is what surfers do, right?  They hit the waves before the rest of the world hits their snooze button.

There was an energy in the air as we rounded the corner to the first gap between beach houses where we could see the waves.  I couldn’t wait to see what my new playground was going to bring me that morning and I was hoping for a repeat of Lesson One. 

Oh.  The waves are actually much bigger today.  Now, by “much,” I mean double the size, so 2-4 feet instead of 1-2.  It certainly wasn’t huge, but it was enough to get tossed around in; so as I strapped my leash around my ankle, a feeling of insecurity washed through me.

Two things about bigger waves: 1) They make it much harder to paddle out to the lineup and 2) they are scary when you get pounded by them and all of their force. 

When we went out the first day, the surf was so small and gentle that we didn’t really cover any paddle-out tactics.  So it wasn’t until this next lesson when I started paddling, that I realized I had no real plan for what to do when a wave came and broke on top of me.  The first time this happened, I just held onto the rails of the board and closed my eyes.  Come to find out, this isn’t the “recommended way” to get to the outside (I know, weird).  Instead of charging through the waves, the waves charged through me.  Each time a wave would come, it would push me back toward the shore and I’d lose most of the ground I had just gained. 

For those of you who haven’t experienced this plight of a beginner surfer, it’s maddening.  Paddling with everything you’ve got, only to get smacked in the face with a wall of water and pushed back, then knowing you have to do it all over again, is not the most gentle way to wake up.  Somehow, I didn’t anticipate this frustration as we were excitedly driving down to the beach (probably listening to Bob Marley’s “Could You Be Loved”).  But there I was, with the sun coming up over my left shoulder, trying to get to the outside of the break as I was quickly wearing out.

In spite of this flawed plan, I somehow got out and started looking for waves that seemed promising.  However, each time I tried for a wave, I pearled the nose under because I was too far forward on the board.  This is the part where I learned lesson #2:  It can be scary when you get tossed about in these waves.

The tumbling around part is half-way fun in relatively small surf, but it’s the uncertainty of where your board is in relation to your head, and when you’re going to take your next breath, that worries a person.

After a little while, the thought occurred to me that maybe these were too big for my second lesson, so I came in closer to the beach to surf the white water.  That too proved to be chaotic because I got knocked around in the turbulent water, but most importantly, I was exhausted.  I just didn’t have any gas left in the tank and the sun was getting higher, which meant the work day was closer. 

Sunrise over the gulf

So I grabbed the surf bag from the sand and chalked it up to a learning experience about gauging wave size in relation to surf skill.  As I walked up the stairs over the dunes, I took one last glance back and saw the sun, now much higher over the horizon, taking its stance above the gulf for another beautiful day. 

Still, this isn’t a bad way to start the morning.