Not mentioned here, but waxing your feet may or may not work. Photo: The Inertia
Like any sport or recreational activity, surfing is ripe with rituals and superstitions. Some are legitimate, some are hearsay, and some are none of the above.
For example, on the latter, a magic board is simply a fact (even if it might be a thing of the past). Before state-of-the-art technology (like CNC machines), every board had its quirks of volume and definition; and that one board did float above the rest. There’s no subsurface effect of the mind working on you. That board is in fact magic, and you should treat it with the care that magic deserves.
In terms of hearsay, there’s too much to cover. But I am certain that whatever your pre-surf meal or beverage of choice is does not matter. It could be coconut water and an acai bowl or a cigarette and a beer. Surfers o the Dream Tour, pre WSL, ripped as hard as the health-conscious athletes of today, and probably had more fun doing it.
No, what we’re concerned with are the customs that define surfing. To paraphrase Joseph Campbell, America’s late expert on all things ritual: they give form to deeper meaning. Our rituals prescribe us as surfers. They lend a subtle, but resonant clue to who we really are.
With that in mind, here are a few surf rituals that define us – and a few worth keeping.
Rub Sand On Your Board
Rule of thumb… if it’s good enough for Mason Ho, it’s good enough for you.
Everyone seems to have some sort of pre-surf wax ritual, but bollocks to wax. We’ve all been there — ready for a surf, no wax to be found in the car, and no one to bum the sticky, bumpy stuff from. So what do we do? We turn to the earth, and rub a little sand on it.
It’s certainly an old-school trick you learn from an elder. A little sand on your old wax job creates abrasions (perhaps on your chest as well), roughs up the existing wax, and creates grip. If sandpaper can make things more gritty and tactile, then it stands to reason that regular sand can do the same to a surfboard. Whether or not you do it as a daily occurrence, we all turn to the sand when the paraffin supply runs dry.
And that’s what surfers are, right? We’re nature loving hippies. Our sport born from nothing but waves of energy in water, originally ridden on logs of wood. A little sand on your board is a ritual that brings you back to the root of the practice.
Sand here, sand there (in your hair), sand everywhere.
Never Paddle In
We always paddle out for a good time. But if you paddle in, you may undue all of that good work.
Disclaimers. Sure, don’t be daft. If you’re in surf or a situation that’s way over your head, there’s a time and a place to paddle in. And there’s offshore spots that require a paddle in, but that’s not the point. We’re talking about tucking tail, giving up on the next set that might come, and using your own energy in lieu of Mother Nature’s to get back to shore.
If you’re out at your spot, having a typical session, there’s nothing worse than bulldozing back to shore with your shoulder windmills. People will sit in the ocean for an hour past closing time to avoid the dreaded paddle in. The only option is to ride one in, even if it’s on your belly.
We’re out there to escape the slog of a work life. To enjoy the ephemeral feeling of riding nature’s own energy transfer. To escape haste and embrace patience. Paddling in is the antithesis of a surfer’s values because there’s no rush when you’re exactly where you are supposed to be.
If you have a beating heart, you pee in your wetsuit. Image: The Inertia
Pee In Your Wetsuit
If you do not pee in your wetsuit, then you are a questionable surfer. And science can confirm this. Immersion diuresis is a phenomenon that occurs as the body reacts to cold water. More blood pressure, more fluid from the kidneys… you get the gist of it.
It’s more than an act of warming up. Flooding a wetsuit with your own summer lemonade is a rejection of norms. Surfers are bohemians. Edge of society material. We’re not supposed to be anything but the smell of the Earth, and yes, the Earth is smelly. Peeing in your wetsuit is the vein of our practice. We’re wasting precious work hours in the ocean, and our body’s waste is a symbol of our rebellion.
These rituals are a part of our fabric. Even more, they are a fabric of the earth that made us. Embrace them when you debark the shoreline.
