Surfing Serenity

Surfing has completely changed for us lately. Now that we're putting the pieces together, getting the basics down in this sport, we're less distracted by details and having much more fun.

It helps that the summer swells are pushing up consistently bigger waves to ride. We're reading them better now too- we can spot a good one coming and get ready for it, when just a few weeks ago we might have been side-swiped and left tumbling in its wake.


We're stronger paddlers, and each session we're out on the water longer. Now we rest when we're waiting for waves, rather than collapsing with fatigue after the paddle from shore.

There's Dan in the line-up, far right:


We've learned that waves come in sets: two, three and four surfable swells come one after another. So it's OK to let the first one pass. As it turns out, it's actually good etiquette too: we let the better surfers take those first couple, then follow along behind so we don't get in each other's way.

And we're staying up longer to enjoy the longer ride:


Usually there's a fifteen or twenty minute lull between sets. The sea goes flat and quiet, looking for all the world like it'll never send another wave our way. We sit, and flex our legs, look around a bit.

Some days, waiting is the best part of surfing. The other day I looked down through the clear green water and noticed a large rock at the ocean bottom. I'd seen them down there before, but this particular rock almost looked like it was floating.

How silly, I thought. No, I must be drifting with the current- it couldn't be moving away from me.

But it kept sliding to one side, quicker and quicker, and seemed to be lifting. Look! It's a turtle coming up, a star shape rising.

The round, leathery head popped through the surface, dipped under, and came up again.

"Hello, honu," I said, smiling.