Break Stuff

My new German friend Benjamin is keen on learning to surf. I've explained my qualifications and agreed to give a lesson.

On the beach, we find a board rental stall of six boards, stood upright, ordered from small to large. We explain to the Ecuadorian surfer, that it's our first and second time, respectively. After some haggling over the price, he hands me a tequila sunrise coloured board, the second smallest. I know it's a way too small for me, having learnt on a big door, but I can't possibly hand back this pretty little thing.

Ben and I pick a patch of sea nearby the few other surfers that are out on the waves. I give a replay of the five minute lesson I had in Mancora - how to get up and a few pointers on what to watch for.

Two hours later, neither he or I have gotten up for so much as a second. We're mostly paddling around and being badly punished by waves. As I'm trying to paddle myself out into the bigger surf, I see waves building ahead of me. Some crash a head of me and the white water tumbles toward me. I can only hold tight with my head down against the board. Sometimes the break passes over me and I come out facing the same direction, ready to paddle again. Sometimes the wave turns me upside down and inside out. In the frequent latter case, by the time I've resurfaced and recovered, another wave is just about to hit me again. This is tougher than I remember.

Worse still, I often watch as beach-wide waves build slowly in front of me. I paddle hard to get to them before they break so they'll safely pass under me. Sometimes that works. Sometimes, just before it reaches me, I watch in horror as the break starts on both the left and right of the wave. I think I can get through the gap ahead of me where it's yet to break. More often than not, the break closes in, then curls and crashes very precisely over my head. Down under the water, I can only wait and hope, with forcefully baited breath, to resurface and start again.

Eventually, I'm up, and Tequila Sunrise and I are away. It's not more than five seconds, but it's success. My student Ben is up and away only moments later. A few waves later, and I feel like I'm just starting to get it, but I'm happy to call it a day on this mild success.

I suppose I'll start addressing everyone as 'Dude' now.