Surfing USA, or Rather PR

I finally got some surfing in (that's me paddling out), and there was a point where I was ready to chicken out and just stand on the sidelines and be a spectator. Surfing is probably the greatest sport in the world, but it’s also hard, challenging, and intimidating, especially when you’ve been in situations where you’ve feared for your life. Believe me, it doesn’t take much to be there.

In light of this, when you haven’t surfed for a while, you’re painfully aware of your limitations, and realize you can’t shake it like you used to. When I first looked out into the waves, my first thought was, man those waves are bigger and rougher than I thought. Another problem was that there wasn’t much in the way of sandy beaches, just a massive reef. This same reef that gives the waves their killer shape also makes for treacherous surfing, because if you fall into that reef, it will cut you up like a knife. This, of course, meant that I was on my own, and it was too dangerous for the kids.

I rented a board on the beach from some seedy underhanded surfer who was not warm and fuzzy. He warned me to really be careful where I went out and came back in, because the reef would rip me to shreds, but more importantly, might damage his board. Great. For the record, the board was a piece of junk. One thing that was nice was that we were right at where I had surfed 15 years earlier, at Domes. The surf spots are all within a mile stretch along the coast, and the waves looked good, maybe too good. I was hoping for Florida ripples on a nice, gradual sandy beach.

We walked for a bit and found a nice shady spot on the beach, and then I scouted for a good spot to paddle out. I watched one guy who was clearly a local go out, and the way he did it was to walk out along the reef, wait for a wave to come, then jump off the reef and start paddling like crazy before the next set came in. The guy had a major gut, as well, but he was on a longboard, which can make all the difference.

I decided to follow in his footsteps, and it wasn’t so bad. In fact, I found the surf spot to be very manageable, and even though the waves had some size to them, they didn’t destroy me and they were very surf-able, reminiscent of my former home break in Malibu. I even caught some waves, not many, but I managed to surf, and the kids were witness to it. Good enough for me. I spent some time in the lineup getting acclimated, and my lack of conditioning was a factor, but all in all, it was a successful surf trip. I got some waves, got on my feet and actually surfed the waves, and felt good. The water was the perfect temp, and as usual, I got surfing fever back in my blood. Now I’m scheming how I can get a new board and get back to the surf.

The ideal situation would be to go to Daytona Beach and rent a house for a week. Then I could surf in the early morning then take the kids out and surf during the day. The waves are much mellower and the beach is gentle. That way we could all get some surfing in. Plus, Florida is very affordable. Something to aspire to.

At some point the swell started to get choppy, and all the while that I was out there I stressed a little (what else is new?) about how the heck I was going to get back to the beach. As I mentioned, the entire coastline is a reef, so it’s not very easy to just walk out of the water. Plus, if you don’t time it right, the waves will thrash you against the rock, not to mention damage the board. Who cares about your body, it’s the board you worry about.

I did what I always do in these situations, and that was to ask several of the other surfers out there. Because the break was challenging, there weren’t too many tourists, and they were all fairly competent surfers. They explained to me where I had to go to get out, and that’s what I did. I survived.

All in all I felt good about my time surfing, but wished that it could have been for longer, and that the kids could have joined me. Oh well, better luck next time. Until then, thanks for reading, and thanks to RIC for the pics.