Every surfer has claimed a wave. Right? From the “no claim-claim” head to the sky kickout, all the way to the full-on praying hands in the air, you must have claimed at least one wave in your career. Right?! The random fly-away air kick-out for no apparent reason.. You must know!
I like to imagine that everyone has experienced the same jubilation that I felt when falling in love with surfing. I can distinctly remember standing up on my very first (whitewash) wave ever, screaming at the top of my lungs as loud as I could. It was the only way I could attempt to express that ethereal feeling surging through my bones. I was enamored all the way through to the soul. Completely hooked.
What was that feeling? How can that be described? Utter happiness? Cloud Nine? Commonly referred to as stoke by the surfing crowd, my vocabulary lacks the correct word for this feeling, this emotion. Awake is maybe the closest I could get. Aware? Euphoria? This heightened sense of being, this connectedness, the oneness – yet – separateness from the ocean, and from nature surrounding us, is truly hard to describe. It’s surreal to say the least. I don’t believe there is another experience like it on Earth.
A wave’s lifespan passes in the blink of an eye, yet the memories they burn into your brain will last a lifetime. One single wave has the ability to completely change your life – for better or for worse. The dedication alone is enough to alter your course of action. Just ask your significant other. All of this, and you’re straight faced telling me that you’ve never claimed a wave?
You sincerely have never reached a point of such bliss, you have never been a conduit for so much elation through this moving, traveling energy, that you felt the need to celebrate? Well in that case, my friend, I feel a bit sorry for you. What are you surfing for anyways?
Surfing is selfish. Age old knowledge, but a surfer will typically drop (in on) any and everything to catch a few waves. Yet in my opinion, this greedy mentality shouldn’t have a negative connotation around it. You should never be ashamed of taking care of your mental, spiritual, and physical identity, all of which happens through surfing. If you are not your complete healthy self, you are no good for society. You cannot be robust if you have surfing, or any passion, taken away from you.
Eventually, we all progress. Like a high school stoner, your tolerance gets built up. No longer will you be asking your friends if they saw your closeout floater. What once filled your brain with dopamine for a brief few moments now leaves you stymied. The arc of improvement bends near a straight 180° line. This is not to say that every surfer just stops getting better, but we all have our limits. Beneath this realistic aversion, however, lies something alluring. An opportunity.
Life situations take hold at some point, and surfing will take a backseat to a plethora of responsibilities much more important than riding waves. Coincidentally or not, this timing usually aligns with the progression decline. But the itch never ceases. Any day that has swell around town and you can’t surf, there is a pit in your gut. Watching your friends leave for a 2 day strike mission you’re unable to attend, wretched. Seeing clips or photos of your stomping grounds on fire can cause serious mental distress. And you will find there is not much worse than expecting to score some waves for your first session in two weeks, to rock up to 8am wind-blown shit, lot lizards telling you “shoulda been here yesterday”.
As blue as this forecast looks, the grass is always greener. This is the chance for change and revision. You have to re-learn to love surfing, the actual act of riding the wave and everything that comes with it. There is no other choice for salvation. You need to get back to the source. Think back – Why did you start surfing? Why did you continue? For most surfers who have reached this point of existence have also reached the edge of abandonment. It is so much easier to sit in the parking lot drinking coffee, talking shit than it is to put on that thick rubber suit and paddle out to a couple of measly, crumbly, unradical rides. I’m sure that you are familiar with this type of surfer, but I am telling you this from first hand experience. Yes, I am on my soapbox. I am truly trying to save you from the Surfing Blues.
The only thing I personally found as a remedy was to completely dedicate myself to surfing. Whatever that means to you, do it. Whether from burning out on surfing too much since you were 14, a lifelong experience of riding waves that has left your body battered, or as simple as falling “out of love” with surfing, you need to tap back in. Find the source again. Maybe you’re long overdue for a surf trip to your favorite location. Possibly just a day trip to get away from some crowds and surf by your lonesome. For myself, dedicating, committing to surfing meant getting in the water everyday for 7 days straight, no matter the situation or consequences. If I had to catch 3 waves in 20 minutes before work, that was going to happen. If it was completely blown out, hardly surfable, I would get in the water. It was non-negotiable. This week completely changed my outlook on surfing.
The second day of my devotion was forecasted for classic fall conditions for my area: strong offshore winds, beautiful conditions, and tiny swell. What should come along with that forecast is a warning of each and every surfer within 30 miles making their way into the lineup at some point in the day. Amongst the huddled crowds I struggled for my 3 waves in 30 minutes. People everywhere. Minute waves that trick you into thinking they will break outside, only to leave you looking like an asshole when you decide to have a paddle. The lack of vision due to wind blown spray in your face. The whole shabang. I was prepared for a party, only to show up to a junkyard.
The turning point, however, came upon changing out of my suit in the parking lot. Look at all of these people, I thought, myself included, who got all fired up to surf in these conditions that are supposed to be ideal, only to spend the entire session in battle. Don’t get me wrong, I had fun out there for those 3 waves, those fleeting recollections. I am not implying that I had wasted time. What I did realize is that I don’t need optimal conditions to enjoy a surf. It’s not always about the maneuvers performed, the length of ride, or the quality of waves. In fact, I might even prefer lesser conditions, so long as the lineup has more space.
The following 2 days provided exactly what I was looking for – choppy windswell with literally nobody out. For two days in a row, I was one of 3-5 surfers that I saw in the water (for the afternoon sessions). If I told you the spot I was surfing, you wouldn’t believe me, its normally packed. The waves were no bigger than waist high, the jaunt providing no more than 2 sections before becoming unrideable. And still, these 2 particular days may have provided more for me than all of my surfing past has combined. I was immensely satisfied from paddling out in what could only be labeled as terrible surf.
I hadn’t forced myself to paddle out in waves like that since I was on the high-school surf team. Even then, I can recall really not wanting to do it. I didn’t want to deal with the cold. I only had an hour before class. My wetsuit was wet. I didn’t want to go to school salty and stinky. The list goes on. Most of all, the waves were shit. Why would I waste my time? It’ll be better tomorrow..
Forcing myself to get out there no matter what also forced me to find some kind of highlight from each session. Even while sticking to the minimum, I had to find something good about the surf. And within the next few days I was finding something good about the surf before I even paddled out. Putting on my wetsuit, I would catch myself with a feeling of pride, in a state of delight. I have the time and the opportunity to catch some waves! Even as shit as it looks out there, I could be digging ditches right now. I could be stuck in traffic. There are an infinite amount of things worse than surfing that I could be doing right now. And I’m going surfing no matter what, so why not enjoy it?
Why am I going to be the grumpy asshole in the water, when I could be the happy kook? If I were to get out there and harp on the amount of heads in the water, the lack of swell, the supply of wind, it’s just going to ruin my session and quite possibly my day. Instead, I could catch a couple of waves and claim them all the way to the beach. The whole wave itself could be more about the claim than it is about any of the riding. This shit is supposed to be fun! Think of the old school tandem surfing, now imagine that without a second person. Just rad fucking poses all the way to the sand. Would be epic. It should be about enjoying that singular moment that will never be recreated. There will never be an exact replica of that which you just experienced. It doesn’t have to be all about ripping and progression.
What else are you going to do when racing down a windy, knee-high closeout? If your one thousandth air reverse attempt is going to fill your happy meter, by all means go for it. But I must tell you and warn you, that shit will get old. Shredding and improving is not the be-all-end-all. Let’s start to loosen it up a bit. Claim some waves. Whether it be a complete joke to you, or if you truly start to feel some joy inside from surfing in “bullshit” conditions, try and claim a wave or two. It might be the cleanest looking wave of the day, maybe your best ride of the day, or even the typical biggest wave of the day, just throw a little claim. Nobody has to see it. A sneaky little point down at the board. Maybe just a real sharp kick out onto your board and an aggressive stroke to start the paddle. Your gratification and appreciation for this magical art will grow and grow as mine has. Thank me later. And start claiming your waves.
Cheers,
hwilsin