Old Dog, New Trick

It is an amazing opportunity before me at the moment. Six months long service leave. Living on the Sunshine Coast. And getting to spend a lot of time with the wife and son as I take care of the little fella in particular on a full-time basis.

Given all that, I thought it would be remiss of me if I didn't seek to accomplish a few things while living this life. Regular writing and posting on this blog is one. But another is surfing. While the daddy day care duties don't allow a hell of a lot of time for getting out and hitting the waves, the opportunity of living up the coast for an extended amount of time really had to be grasped.

So a couple of weeks ago, I undertook my first lesson down on Noosa Main Beach. By all accounts, Noosa Main is a pretty good spot to learn so I headed down there one morning with quite a few butterflies and a yearn to learn. Why so nervous? Well, I think I've been fortunate to almost always pick up new things pretty easily when it comes to athletic/sporting pursuits. In my teenage days anyway. As a result, I don't think I handle being a 'gumby' at something very well and I've been reluctant to try new things as I've gotten older for that reason.

So taking on something completely new at the grand old age of 36 seemed a little strange and I was a bit intimidated seeing I was most definitely going to be a gumby this day. And not helped by an American tourist doing the lesson as well that said to me "You're an Australian and you don't know how to surf?"

Anyway, there was a delay to the lesson starting because a large group hadn't arrived yet so I was standing near the truck and putting on my assigned rashie. Next thing I know a German girl tapped me on the shoulder and handed over $60. Perplexed and not quite thinking straight due to the nerves, it took me a while to realise she thought that I was the surfing instructor and she wanted to pay up.

Having been up the coast for over three months now, I guess I've started to take on the 'coasty' look with longer hair, a tan and a bushy beard. I did quickly explain that I was merely a fellow pupil and not the instructor before she snatched her money back, no doubt wondering "He's an Australian and he doesn't know how to surf?"

We eventually ventured on to the sand with our training boards under our arms and squinting heavily into the sun. The instructor did his intro with his surfing bio (born and breed at Noosa, been surfing for 35 years, etc) and some beach safety tips before we went through the movements on our boards, raising the odd wry smile from the beachgoers around us. I was doing quite well at this and was thinking this surfing gig might just be a breeze before I realised the sand is probably a hundred times more stable than a moving wave out in the ocean.

A couple of run-throughs and we were into the water already practicing pushing up into position as the wave hits. It seemed easy enough and I enjoyed a couple of rides into the shore and thought 'maybe I don't need to stand up. This is pretty fun in itself.' We were back on to the beach a short time later for some more instruction and then it was time to try it all out by ourselves.

I was on the end of the group as we lined up horizontal to the shore with the instructor moving along pushing each person along to help them get some momentum. I reasoned it would take ages before he got to me so I decided I'd try and give it a go myself. A little clumsily I found my 'sweet spot' for my feet and looked back behind me at the incoming wave.

It just seemed natural to begin to paddle with my arms so I moved off and waited for the wave to hit. Still nothing so I looked around again and it was still some way off. All this waiting wasn't good, however, as I was over-analysing and over-thinking what I needed to do next. Then before I know it, the board lifted at the tail (got the lingo down already) and I started to gain some momentum pretty quickly.

I noticed that the nose was dipping though and all of sudden I was face-planting sand and my feet were flying over my head in a complete somersault. I'd nose-dived in spectacular fashion and the leg robe was now pulling strongly on my ankle as the board wanted to give up on me and head back into the shore.

I looked around to see where I was (still Noosa?) and the instructor had a big smile as he swam over. "You were a little too high up on the board. All your weight was too far forward." Right, that makes sense I guess. Better just unpluck my boardies from my arse.

Next time around the instructor stayed with me and was calling out the moves as I should have been doing them. It went a lot better this time and I actually managed to catch the wave but stumbled off like a drunken sailor as soon as I tried to stand. Yep, Gumby Day it was turning out to be. Things did improve though and by the end of the lesson I'd managed to stand up a few times although some might call my definition of 'standing up' a little generous.

I'd booked my second lesson for two days later and of course the two day delayed muscle soreness had kicked in by then. So I turned up again pretty stiff in the upper back and neck and was stretching them out as an English tourist from Manchester struck up a conversation with the question "So you don't surf? I thought all Australians surfed?" FFS, cultural stereotyping has a lot to answer for.

Being an 'experienced' surfer because I've done one lesson, I was allowed to go out by myself while the rest of the group did the lesson one intro and routine. And you know what, I was doing OK right from the get-go and managed to ride a wave all the way into the beach within the first ten minutes. A loud 'yee-hah' passed my lips and I began to realise what all the fascination is about. I've always loved bodysurfing but riding a wave in on a board really does beat it and I was starting to feel hooked.

I soldiered on but was still only standing up one in every five attempts. Some awesome wipeouts did occur but I was always quickly back up and paddling out again to try and get the next one. By the end of the lesson, I'd gotten the ratio down to about one stand up in every three attempts and I walked back up the beach feeling great with the board under my arm. Maybe I didn't even need the third lesson I'd booked for another two days time.

I decided to do the third lesson nonetheless so turned up feeling good and quite confident. Again, I was sent out by myself seeing I was now soooo experienced. The first couple of goes were a struggle though and I kept alternating between nose-diving and not being able to paddle on at all.

I was getting pretty frustrated before the instructor came over and lent me a few tips on wave selection and trying to keep my feet still as I paddle on. Guess I'm so used to moving my legs as I roll my shoulders over from all the swimming I've done. Things did improve as the session went on but I still didn't feel as good as the last lesson and trudged back up the beach feeling a little down about it all. I'd just assumed I would steadily improve with each lesson/session but it actually seemed like I'd gone backwards.

D-Day then arrived a few days later. The day of my first go at going out by myself. A very kind mate had lent me a Mini Mal to start off with so I donned my boardies once again and headed down the beach with the board under my arm with a fair whack of trepidation and fear.

And it turned out with good reason. Once again I felt like I'd gone backwards as I kept slipping off the board and struggled to maintain any sort of 'position' for a proper lift off and stand. I did catch a few waves but they were definitely few and far between. 'Frustration' was therefore the descriptor for my mood and I went to grab some breakfast feeling confused and just a little cranky.

Over a strong flat white, I contacted my surfing oracle (the mate who lent me the board) and sought some advice on what was going wrong. Wax my friend. The Oracle said the wax on the board was probably quite ancient by now after a year or so under his house so I needed to get rid of it and apply some new stuff.

Aha. The Oracle had spoken. So I headed straight for the nearest surf shop and purchased a wax comb and some new wax bars. I then keenly undertook the task of wax off and wax on (reverse Karate Kid) when I got home. As well as finding some time to practice my 'stand up' movements on the bathroom floor after having a shower.

Two days later I ventured out for the second time by myself with the wife and son on the beach watching. The wife understood my frustrations at the time so I think she quietly had her fingers crossed for me as I paddled out to the first wave. And before I knew it, it was upon me and something clicked into action quickly and effectively. Fore all of a sudden I was standing up and riding the wave into the beach. Bingo! Wax off and wax on had worked.

I've since been out another two times since then and everything is starting to click. I'm pretty much up and riding the wave in say seven times out of ten and am now able to turn and walk a little up and down the board. This is at a pretty tame beach like Noosa Main though and there's still some hilarious wipeouts as the various bruises and cuts on my body can attest to. But I feel like I might just get hooked on this surfing thing. Who knows, it might be a lifetime pastime with many years to come. Then again, it could be a poor man's midlife crisis and all be over in a few short months.

No matter what happens, it's been great to overcome the nerves and actually give something new a go. Life would be pretty boring if we just stayed within our comfort zones all the time so I'm certainly glad I 'stretched the envelope' so to speak and have realised the opportunity to learn to surf while living up here on the coast. This old dog has learned a new trick.

EDM.