At the beginning of surfing season a couple months ago, I pledged that I would learn to surf before the waves flatten out in the summer.

Freeman Rogers

Surprisingly, I’ve learned to surf very quickly. ‡

I’ve even learned to do a few tricks. §

On the other hand, I suppose this speed should come as no surprise for a seasoned athlete such as myself. ¶

Of course, I’m still not quite as good as some of the other surfers out there. # And, because we’re all trying to surf the same waves, this detail has steepened the learning curve a little. **

But I’ve devised a few strategies that have been working quite well. ††

All in all, learning to surf has been a great experience, and I’m looking forward to learning more. In no time at all, I should be an expert, ready to face the big waves at Cane Garden Bay. ‡‡

Footnotes

* Of course, all definitions are relative. And there could be hundreds of interpretations of the phrase “being able to surf.” My definition is this:

“The ability to stand up (†) on a moving surfboard, occasionally, if the wind is blowing slowly from the south-southwest; if a wave arrives that is neither too large nor too small; if there are no other surfers in the general vicinity; if no one is watching from the beach; if the weather is neither hot nor cold nor sunny nor cloudy; and if no other distractions exist within a 100-mile radius.”

† By “stand up,” I’m not referring to the fluid motion by which many surfers instantly arrive in an upright position. Instead, I mean, “place one’s hands down on the board and push; shakily climb into a squat; struggle into a semi-upright position, usually with one hand still tentatively clinging to the board; and remain there for at least three seconds.”

‡ Here, of course, I’m speaking in geological time. When you consider that the earth is a few billion years old, the three-and-a-half years since I came to the VI seems like a very short time span indeed. Even if you count the fact that I actually started trying to surf years ago, in South Carolina.

§ My extensive repertoire of tricks includes the Front Somersault into a Wave; the Backward Somersault into a Wave; the Face-Plant in Shallow Water; the Slow-Motion Sideways Tumble; the Panicked Bail-Out Flail-and-Dive; and many others.

¶ By “seasoned athlete,” I mean I played varsity basketball at Travelers Rest High School in South Carolina, on a team that won two out of 30-something games during my senior year.

# By “not quite as good as other surfers” I mean that, compared to most of the others, I’m like an infant. And, whenever they’re anywhere near me, I get nervous and fall off my board.

** Whenever a large wave is coming, all the real surfers seem to know about it well in advance. As though they have some sort of sixth sense, they paddle straight for the breaking point. I, on the other hand, never know that a wave is coming until it’s about to break over my head. This makes it rather difficult to jockey into the proper position in advance. So I spend much of my time dodging surfers who have successfully caught waves. This has led to several near-disasters, as they whooshed past within inches.

†† I call my chief strategy the “remora,” after those weird-looking fish that hang around sharks in order to snack on their leftovers. Whenever a big wave comes, I just let it go by: Most of the real surfers catch it, and the other beginners wipe out trying. But since waves come in sets, there’s usually another big wave right behind it. Often, this wave isn’t as good as the first one, but I tend to have it all to myself.

‡‡ Here again, I’m speaking in geological time.