Day 30: Surfing

Friday morning the twins and I rolled out of bed, threw on some of Janine's rash guards, and met two young men down at Kailua Beach for a surfing lesson.Originally I had written "watch surfers" on my Hawai'i to-do list, mostly because past experiences have taught me that I'm not really a water-person. I have a(n assumedly natural) respect for and fear of the ocean that largely stems from a lack of strong swimming skills and an utter hatred of having water up my nose and in my eyes.

I have come to really appreciate spending time in the water, close to shore where the waves diminish as they progress. To me, surfing seemed like an uncomfortable, difficult, dangerous activity that would likely disturb the calm relaxed vibe I'd been striving for all trip. However, in the spirit of trying new things, I decided to go out of my comfort zone and give surfing a try. I arrived at our lesson heavily sunscreened with a positive outlook.

Believe it or not, this is our after shot.

Our guides assigned us surfboards and got us in the water within minutes of arriving at the beach. After showing us how to hug the board and roll when waves got too big, Koa and Michael instructed our group to paddle out into the ocean where the waves were bigger and the rocks less numerous. I knew immediately that I was in trouble when I couldn't keep up with the twins and our guides, who were steadily free-styling out to sea on their boards. By contrast I had a hard time staying on my board and my strokes took my half the distance that each one of Janine's or Alicia's did. I kept at it, though, slowly and steadily, often losing any ground I had gained as the waves grew larger and larger, driving me back toward shore. Eventually one of our guides took pity on me and towed me out to the twins on his lead.

Arms aching and rib cages bruised, we practiced turning, sitting, and kneeling on our boards in the growing waves. Janine and Alicia picked this up pretty quickly and were both able to get up to a standing position on their surfboards with a little practice. I, on the other hand, could not maintain my balance for long enough to get from a kneeling to a standing position on my bucking board. Our guides swapped my surfboard for theirs a few times, hoping that a larger board would help me stay afloat, but in the course of changing boards a wave took me under and spit me back up several dozen yards from the group.

After getting back on my third board, a giant wave unseated me and whipped me around, causing me to lose both of my contacts. Nose dripping and eyes burning, I forced a smile on my face and began the painful (and blurry) paddle back toward our guides, fighting waves as I attempted forward motion. My third wipeout was the closest to actual surfing that I got all day - I accidentally caught a wave that swept me along for a full 20 seconds or so laying flat on my board. When I tried to stand up, however, my board and I both got sucked into a wave. My sixth wipeout scared me so badly that I wanted to beg someone to send a helicopter down to airlift me back to the shore, which we could just barely see from how far out we were. It forcefully separated me from my board, which whipped me under the water for what seemed like ages and made me so disoriented that I couldn't tell up from down. While sucked into the current my surfboard smacked me in the head. When I finally surfaced, choking and unable to see, I was more than halfway back to shore and my head throbbed.

Having tired of being subjected to the mercy of the ocean, and feeling that I was nearing the end of my physical limits, I chose to call it quits and headed back toward shore, stroking pitifully at the water in my exhausted attempt to get solid ground under my feet. On my feeble trek back (it took me about 20 minutes to swim back in on my board, even with the current) I was knocked off my board several more times. I tried not to feel too defeated and instead reminded myself that I'd gone out of my comfort zone to do something I wouldn't normally have done. Determinedly I carried the giant board, a few feet at a time, up the shore and back to the truck, then collapsed on the beach, where I waited another hour for Janine and Alicia to paddle back. We grabbed lunch and a six-pack at a nearby food place with our guides, then headed home and crashed for 3-5 hour naps, followed by more nourishment. When I went to sleep later that night the rocking sensation that I'd taken home with me from being tossed about in the ocean persisted, giving me nightmares of drowning. Lesson learned: Surfing is much harder than it appears.

Note to self: begin lifting weights. Upper body strength is lacking.

Update: We are covered in an assortment of bruises, largely on our hips and ribs, from clinging to and paddling on our boards. I have some serious respect for surfers that I did not have before!