Surfing: The Agony

When Dan and I came to Hawaii we had high hopes and big ambitions: we were dead-set on learning to surf.

Our first taste of surfing came almost three years ago, when we visited Hawaii for a wedding. Doug, our surf instructor, was a friend of the bride's family. He graciously offered free surfing lessons to any wedding guests willing to ride out with him just after dawn the next morning. Maybe it was the warm tropical breeze, or the strong Mai-Tais from the bar, but Dan and I practically climbed over each other on our way to sign up.

The truth is I had never thought much about surfing before. Sure, I'd seen the surfing competitions on ESPN with the world-class surfers tackling monster waves. But that style of surfing surely wasn't for the likes of us.

So I really had no idea what we were getting into that bright Sunday morning after the wedding. I just stood with the others gathered on the beach, munching on donuts and listening to Doug explain how we were going to surf.

He made it look easy. And best of all, he made it easy for the rest of us. For several hours on a gorgeous day, with Waikiki beach spread out before us and Diamond Head's amazing silhouette to one side, we listened to Doug's calm instructions....and ACTUALLY SURFED.

Nothing fancy, you understand. But several times Dan and I got up on our respective boards, and rode those lovely Waikiki roller waves into shore, big smiles plastered across our faces the whole time.

We were hooked. We couldn't wait to come back to Hawaii for more. In fact, it was all I could do to keep Dan from faxing in his resignation right then and there.

Alas, we did go back to New Jersey. But for months afterward, images of the surfers we'd seen riding serenely into shore, beatific smiles alighting their faces, rose into my mind. I vowed to go back there someday, to experience that Buddha-like existence myself.

With such a promising start, we figured it couldn't take more than a couple weeks of solid practice to get good. How hard could it be?


Famous last words. Surfing has definitely not been quite the serene experience we expected, now that we've tried it on our own. For a month I've been trying to stand up on the board, without success. And it's not for lack of trying.

It didn't help that we completely forgot everything Doug taught us three years ago. We can't seem to time the waves right, and the board is pretty wobbly. I always forget where to put my feet, and when I do occasionally manage to catch a wave, I promptly fall back off again.

We're out of shape. By the time we paddle out to the break, we're so tired all we can do is bob around for a while, then turn around and paddle back to shore. We just don't have the upper body strength to catch a wave.

Sadly, our hopes and dreams have turned into utter frustration. And outright pain. I got banged up and bruised pretty badly last week, when a wave smashed the board against my thigh. My ribcage and hips and even my kneecaps are sore from lying face down on the fiberglass. I cut my foot on coral, and burned my neck in the strong sun.

Then there are all the other people out there. I hesitate to call them surfers because like us, they bobble around for hours without catching many waves. But they sure are scary when they try. I see a wave coming and I spend the rest of the time making sure I don't get plowed over from behind.

Finally, about a week ago, as I lay across my board, shaking out my sore arms and worrying that I might have dislocated a disk in my neck, I found myself losing heart. I ran out of ideas about how to make this work. Piteously I scanned the horizon, wishing with all my heart that Doug would materialize beside me right then. In his calm beach boy way, he'd tell me exactly how to get up on that board and surf.

I heard a voice to the side, and watched Doug's face melt away as if in a dream. A generous surf instructor, waiting during a lull in the waves, must have noticed my pathetic look. And he offered me some kindly advice: keep your feet together as you paddle, and slide forward a bit. See! you glide much faster- it's easier to catch the waves.

I gave him a smile and a feeble nod. And gratefully took his advice.

Yesterday, we went out for a short surf session in between bouts of rain. And I did actually get up for a long ride. On my knees.