I remember the first wave I caught on my own. Was on a 7'6 NSP. White deck with orange rails and a flowery design. Surf Betty. There were just a few people. Jojo and I, and two teenage boys trying to learn on their own. Lying prone on the board and facing the shore, I heard Jojo's instructions to get ready. Without looking back at the approaching wave, I began to paddle - punching my arms into the water and pulling back as hard as I could. I could hear the wave's roar getting louder as it came closer. "Tayo! Tayo!" I popped up and wobbily rode the wave to the shore. When I turned to paddle back to the lineup, there was Jojo, chest deep in water, grinning and shrugging. "I didn't push you," he said, waving his hands to indicate "wala".
I hear people talk about surfing and "taming the waves." A couple of days ago, I caught my biggest wave so far. Sitting on my board, I saw it approaching, imposing and fast. "Son of a..." I gasped. I turned the board and began to desperately paddle. Panic and fear filled me but I tried to carve out a small space to focus and believe I could catch the wave. I felt it pick me up and I scrambled to my feet. Riding down the face, I kept low so as not to pearl and when I felt it stall, I turned to the left and again began to descend... I heard and saw nothing but the wave. When the ride was over and I tumbled into the water, I felt more relieved to be alive than stoked. As I recuperated near the shore, Christian, one of the locals, paddled up. "Your board's going to break in these conditions," he told me, half-warning, half-encouragement.
I don't think you tame waves. You just hitch a ride on them like an insect on the head of a charging elephant.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
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