One day at the beach

7:00 in the morning on a Saturday, I feel a strong, aged hand on my shoulder, "wake up, get dressed, let’s go the boards are loaded" my dad tells me. I slide out of bed and throw on my Mexican fiesta inspired board shorts and a plain white shirt and head downstairs into darkness. 3 hours later, I have arrived; my proving ground is waiting for me. I open the golden Dodge Ram 1500 door and like a slap in the face it hits me, that salty aroma and beautiful sound of waves crashing on the shore that can be found nowhere else but here, here at this place, this place were until today I had known nothing but agonizing defeat. My bare feet when stepping out onto the smoldering pavement are at first met with the nice warmth of pavement that has been shaded by the newly arrived truck. But that nice, almost friendly warmth has turned into a ground that has been repeatedly scorched by the sun. My experience although pays off when I stick to the painted canary yellow parking lines that are not nearly as blistering as that unforgiving asphalt road under the cloudless, clear blue sky. After throwing away my gourmet McDonald's leftovers, I make my way onto the lightly sanded boardwalk, flanked by sea oats, to check the lineup and find a good break. After about 25 yards I'm at the end of the boardwalk, I look to my left at the weather worn once white lifeguard stand that's perched just out of reach of high tide to check the warning flag, its yellow, medium warning...perfect day. As I gaze out at the beach in front of me, to the left there are the typical fisherman wading out into waste high water and right in front of me some kids bobbing up and down in there pink floaties, but then I spot it on the right, my break. That beautiful bluish green water smashing against itself and creating that off-white foam that only waves make, this is the place, today is the day, the day I will catch and ride my first wave.

As I made my way back to the truck to grab my 6'10" Rusty Piranha surfboard I started to feel the nerves in my stomach, you know the ones that are more out of anticipation rather than fear. Nonetheless I was ready to go out and catch some waves it had been a month since the last time I attempted the feat and I was ready to face the challenge head on, again. I got back to the truck and with my left hand grabbed my feather light board out of the back of the truck, after that I picked up our blue and white Hawaiian flower patterned beach bag (normally it houses our cell phones and wax for the boards). Now the trek back through the sea oat forest began again, we headed to the beach over the sandy planks of the boardwalk to the spot I had scouted mere minutes before. As we got to the edge of the pearly white sand I kicked off my tan Rainbow sandals and picked them up with my empty right hand and headed to that sacred spot. The sand was searing hot on my unaccustomed feet, so for every step I buried my feet down under the surface where the temperature was much cooler. My calves were already aching from walking through the sand but just as I thought I could go no further we had arrived at our goal, I set down my board that was safely encased in its silver padded bag and put down the beach bag next to it, my father did the same except he set down our blue cooler next to his board. I proceeded to remove my board from its bag careful not to get any sand in the already present wax from the last time we had ventured to the east coast and then sat it down on top of my board bag. After getting my board out and placing it on my bag I grabbed a bar of sex wax from out of the Hawaiian flowered bag and began waxing my board. I covered the board in a figure eight pattern to make sure I got every part of it; I would need that grip when out in the clear blue water. I checked with my dad to make sure I had enough wax on my board and after getting the okay I began to stretch out my muscles so as to not pull anything or get hurt when surfing. I began by stretching out my legs, simple stuff just bending over and grabbing my ankles to stretch out my Achilles tendon, then some butterflies.

Once all the preparations were done I was ready to go out into the big sapphire ocean. The last step before the run into the sea was to attach my clear leash that connects me to my surfboard and then I was ready to go. For a minute or two I stood down where the water meets the sand just letting it lap against my side, waiting for that opportunistic moment in between sets when I can jump onto my board and start paddling out beyond the break. Then it came, one set of three waves had just ended and I could see another building in the distance this was my chance, I jumped onto my glowing white board, flat on my stomach I plunged my right arm into the ocean and pushed back with all my strength. I was moving with every paddle of my arms left then right then left, with every fiber of strength I was paddling harder and harder I had to get out past the break or suffer the consequence of having a wave crash down like an anvil on top of my head. It was going to be close; the wave was building right on top of me, I paddled like there was no tomorrow. I climbed to the top of the waves crest; I had made it over before it broke. Once at the top as I was about to make my descent I put my arms out in front of me on the board and pushed my chest away, so as not to hit my chin on the board once it made contact with the water again.

Now that I was safely beyond the breaking waves I could relax and wait for that choice wave that I wanted to pluck from the ocean and ride into shore. I sat up on my board but only for a little while because out of the vast blue came my set, the one I had been waiting for. I would not take the first wave because generally it’s not the best out of the bunch so I waited on the second and when it came I got back down on my stomach lying flat. While the wave was a few feet still behind me I began to paddle, out in front of the wave I began to gain momentum I felt the wave began to take me, I was in its grasp under the waves complete control, I paddled one more time with each arm. At this point instinct took over I knew it was time, I pulled my arms out of the water and put them on either side of the board and pushed up, at the same time I pulled my legs up from underneath me, I let go of the board and at that moment I was standing, I was riding. It was maybe a minute of complete ecstasy and it was over, I was back almost at the shore and the wave had died out underneath me.

Once the sheer euphoria and massive amounts of adrenaline had faded away I was the happiest person on the planet. I had done it, I had caught and ridden a wave, and I had accomplished something, after months of persistence. That day taught me anything was possible if I just had the will to not give up and keep trying anything could be possible. Now with all I’ve accomplished what with graduating and speaking at my graduation to attending UCF that day at the beach really was the fuel to my fire. The rest of the day went much like the beginning I would paddle out catch a wave and ride it in to shore. That was almost nine years ago now I frequently surf the east coast and much better I must say then I did before.