For me, traveling to Bali meant I needed to learn (or attempt to learn) how to surf. Luckily one of my friends, who was one of my six vacation companions for the week in Bali, is an experienced surfer and helped me get started with a little land training and instruction--with many yoga analogies.
We stayed a five minute walk and a two minute scooter ride from Echo Beach. I arranged for my first beginner lesson on Tuesday afternoon. In our excitement we decided to rent boards for an hour during high tide to practice getting out past the breaks and to practice paddling. Our enthusiasm quickly turned to folly as the ocean taught us a lesson about who is the boss and why high tide wasn't the time to surf that spot.
The afternoon lesson, on waves much more appropriate for my zero experience with surfing, was a breeze compared to the pounding I received a few hours earlier. I managed to stand up on my first attempt, riding the white wave towards shore. From here my coach gave me pointers on my stance, footing, and approach. I also gained lots of paddling practice. Each time I rode a wave, I had to paddle the distance back out, against the waves.
I learned, with mixed success, a few strategies for riding over the whites of the waves. I was also flipped over plenty of times--resulting in a thorough irrigation of my nasal passages. No need for a neti pot for a week after I go surfing.
Positive reinforcement from my coach continued, as I worked on my stance and footing...and as my arms became more and more fatigued. I was riding a nine foot, wooden long board, which meant that my arms were my only form of propulsion (to be truthful, my coach was also helping with a quick push as I tried to catch each wave). Additionally, paddling a surf board requires a perpetual low cobra yoga posture--keeping my head, shoulders, and chest raised by using my abdominal and back muscles. This meant I was balancing on the board with my toes, knees, thighs, belly, and ribs, and this explains why I felt like I had bruised my ribs the next morning.
After riding one last wave in as far as I could, a shower helped wash the salt water off my skin and a fresh coconut water aided in washing down the half gallon of ocean water that I had inadvertently drank.
After my first lesson I wore a cheesy grin and was ready to sign up for my next lesson...which had to wait until Friday.
Friday morning my lesson was early, 7:30 am, which meant I surfed in a different spot since the tide and the swells were different. After my first successful ride on the whites my coach decided that I was ready to surf the greens (which I inferred were bigger waves that I would catch before they broke). I quickly learned that my timing mattered much more now. If I didn't stand up fast enough, the wave would push the front of my board under water, and, instead of riding the wave, I would be taken for a ride. Trial and error taught me well, and I managed to start standing up faster and more smoothly, allowing me to take a few longer rides, with better views, of both the beach and of the sand and rocks below the water. [My thoughts while noticing the sand and rocks below the water as I surfed: that's pretty...wow, this must be a good long run...crap, those are rocks...don't fall here; don't fall here...]
My second time out was fantastic, and I didn't feel tired until I was out of the water, at which point I was exhausted, yet still happy.
It was barely 10:00 am, so it was time to eat breakfast on the beach and listen to my Cards make a comeback against the Red Sox in game #2 (thanks to the incredible power of technology, wifi, and a smart phone). Then Neil and I retreated to the shade of a beach umbrella to nap and lounge on the beach for a few hours. I was hoping to rest enough to be able to rent a board in the afternoon and surf with my friend, Farrah.
The waves quickly lulled me to sleep. (Although the umbrella didn't protect us from the rays of the sun--ouch. If you find yourself hiding from intense sun, especially near the equator, please learn from my mistake: an umbrella may provide shade but it doesn't guarantee UV protection.)
Hours later I felt rested enough to test myself on a new set of waves--without the literal push that I had gotten each time before, from my coach. Farrah and I found long boards to rent and headed out to try the waves. High tide was starting to retreat, which meant I had to work a lot harder to get out past the first break. This gave me the opportunity to learn when to ride/jump over the wave and when to ditch my board and dive under.
After what felt like 20+ minutes of jumping, diving, paddling, and being washed in by a large wave, I still wanted to prove to myself that I could catch a wave without a coach's help. Kindly, the ocean gave me a wave big enough to get me up yet small enough for my tired body to handle. Farrah and I both caught the wave, and I happily rode my last wave on Echo Beach. Here's my last surf!
Echo Beach, hard to find...hard to forget.
No comments:
Post a Comment