An old dog learning new tricks
If you are anything like me, you have always had a sneaking admiration of surfers. But you didn’t voice it in case it showed you up as a bit of a wanna-be who is all talk and no walk. Because you hate listening to those people who loudly voice their wish for mastering some sort of discipline, but never attempt to. “If you want it that much, just shut the f**k up and do it” you shout at them – in your head.
My first acquaintance with surfing, or more accurately described as white water riding, was when my son and I took a learn to surf session at Raglan when he was about 12. Since then, he has gone on to become a very keen and proficient surfer. I have gone on to be very good at watching big wave comps on TV.
“Dad, you need to get a longboard” has been the constant refrain for about the last four years (knowing full well it means “Dad, I want a longboard, but cannot afford to buy my own”). Not wanting to appear the aging father who loses interest in anything that requires some degree of discomfort I typically replied with some affirmative, but suitably vague comment.
But as we all know, tomorrow is the procrastinator’s haven. Nothing has ever been done tomorrow, it is the bucket where all our unrealised goals lie.
So this year I took surfing out of that bucket. I removed the final obstacle, which was owning an appropriate wetsuit. Being of Scottish extraction, paying full price for a decent wetsuit had as much appeal as binge watching a series of Keeping up with the Kardashians. And being a bit of a brand snob, I didn’t want to be rolling up in a Warehouse special which would shout tight beginner, even though that is exactly what I am! So when browsing the sale rack at a surf shop and discovering a wetsuit that was my size, an acceptable brand, and heavily discounted, I knew it was a sign. Time to take the plunge.
Now all I needed was a surf board. With the prospect of a longboard joining the family toy set, I had a very willing personal shopper in my son. And as fortune would have it, I found a well-cared for longboard that had been shaped in Raglan. None of this being pumped out by a big factory in Thailand and slapping some famous surfers name on for me. I know my board has been made with love and care by a kiwi with the glorious name of Mickey T.
Wetsuit that fits, check. Longboard that’s cool, check. I was ready to ride! But there was a slight problem that I could not avoid. I was now one of those guys with all the gear, but no idea. Thankfully I have a son who gets a lot of pleasure out of seeing his father getting rolled by a wave. So in-between dumpings, I have received plenty of advice, and much of it centering around what not to do. I fortuitously stood up on my first wave, so I have managed to convince myself that with a little practice, I can release that Kelly Slater lurking within me.
One of the appeals of surfing is that the next wave always holds the promise of being better than the last. You are just about to finish and you catch a good ride, ‘one more wave’ you say to yourself. The next thing you know, an hour as disappeared. But on surf time it was about ten minutes. Surfing is an activity that manages to create a time vacuum. Quite clever really, I’m not sure why there is not some research done on the topic. Surfing could be a precursor to time travel. And it would be much more fun than a Tardis.
I can now proudly proclaim myself to be a surfer and bask in my imaged halo effect. Checking out the waves is now something I can’t help myself doing. Although my ability to correctly read waves is about on par with how well I read Mandarin. I may not ever achieve complete fluency, with some practice I am sure I will learn enough in time to get by.
New is good. That is why we had so much fun when we were young, everything was new. You may have to look a little harder as you get older, but not much. If you struggle to answer the question “when was the last time you did something for the first time in your life?” then it is time move stuff out of your tomorrow bucket into your tod
