Any wave can be a good wave if you have the right gear. Photo: Austin Schmid
As surfers, we sometimes find ourselves stuck in the same tired grooves, spinning endlessly like an old record. No two waves are alike, and surfing the same spot over and over can actually be a cool experience. But a static perception of our surfing tendencies, habits and preferences can create a mental block and hinder our progression in the water.
While the perception of surfers leans mellow and adaptable, many of us are competitive in our surfing and somewhat rigid in our approach to it, based on what we’ve learned during our hours standing sideways. We prefer certain boards, fins, conditions; you name it. We should all try to remember, though, that the act of riding waves and our relationship to it ebbs and flows just like the sea. Staying open to new possibilities helps us advance our wave riding in new and unexpected ways.
This is an easy sentiment to echo, but far more difficult of a concept to embrace, as I recently discovered. Thanks to a surfer’s generosity, who happens to be my next-door neighbor, I realized that the biggest thing holding back my surfing was not my age or my ability level, but rather my limited conception of my own wave riding tendencies. Socrates urged us to “know thyself” and Shaun Tomson said “there are no bad days; there are only wrong boards.” What I’m suggesting is that many of us surfers are stuck in the same surfing loop because we think we know ourselves — but in reality, we have more to learn.
The story of my near-spiritual awakening begins in our small, beachside community. Here the rickety dwellings are packed in like sardines, surfboards are strapped to every car and crammed into every tiny, astroturf-green backyard, and the names of the breaks we walk to are guarded with our lives. Our neighbor Nino, who lives about three feet from us, is a dedicated and gifted surfer, a young guy who’s been cycling rapidly through surfboards in search of his magic quiver. For a while it seemed as though every time I saw him at the beach, he was holding a shiny new stick, from Feb’s Fish to the CI Mid to the Mashup to the holy grail of the Album Vesper and so on. As for myself, I’ve got three old boards in the backyard I cycle through. Was I, at times, somewhat envious of the guy’s ever-changing quiver? Damn right I was.
At the same time, I’m aware of how fortunate I am to be able to surf so much, and live where we do. We trade space and silence for surf access, and it’s a smart exchange. Nearly every morning I skip the coffee for a walk through the foggy dawn to what has become one of my favorite surf breaks in the world. I say my hellos, get my waves in, and forget about everything else for a few hours, returning lighter and happier, regardless of what board I ride. My trusty quiver isn’t perfect, but it supplies fun and helps me escape the monotony of only having one daily driver. Sure, I wish my keel fish were a bit smaller and more maneuverable; I’d love my mid-length to more closely resemble a sleek machine than an overweight egg; and I rarely ride my shortboard, which I bought used and never clicked with. My boards all come with Solarez and more dents than my Jeep; but I can’t justify or afford a new board right now (I do allow myself to dream of one for approximately 30 -35 minutes a day).
In any case, a random text from Nino the other day woke me from a robust mid-afternoon nap — er, work commitment. “Hey dude, do you want my Mashup?”
Yes, that’s right. A guy who I’ve only known since September and have never even had over for dinner, was offering to let me ride his barely-ridden, Rob Machado- and Dan Mann-designed, surfboard. There are special places in Surf Heaven for people like this, is what I think now. Yet my reaction at the time was a bit muted, based on my presupposed knowledge of thyself. First, six feet was too big for me. Second, I’m a polyurethane purist, a guy who wants a little heaviness and traditional heft in my boards. Helium’s for balloons, amiright? Third, I don’t ride quads anymore — that went out in the 2000s when I was young and skinny enough to rip around on a little red dart. I am a twinzer or a 2 + 1 guy now, my next board would be a middle-aged man’s mid-length, and that was that.
Nino insisted, though. “Try it as a quad. It’s crazy fast and grippy. See if you click with it. It could be your magic board. If you like it, keep it.”
I knew I wasn’t going to like the board, but I took it out the next morning anyway. What did I have to lose? I wasn’t going to reject the kind offer, though I’d probably eat it on the first wave or two and then paddle back to my user-friendly collection.
The thing is — I didn’t have a chance to fall, or to even like or dislike the board. I was into my first wave so quickly that I nearly blacked out. I made sections I’ve never made before, and on the first wave, tried out new things that had never occurred to me. I had more time, more control, and because the thing was so light, way more freedom. Perhaps it could have been any board, as long as it was different enough than the two boards I’d used day-in and day-out for the last few years? Or maybe I’d just found my magic board, I thought, smiling as I flew down the line, floated, spun, and yeah, eventually fell a bunch because I was pushing prior boundaries. What’s more, the next session was even more progressive, because my body and mind adjusted, my expectations changed, and my confidence shot up. Most importantly, I was having more fun than I’d had surfing in months.
All this occurred because I stepped outside of my own hard-boiled preferences and tried something new. As my neighbor texted, “It’s crazy how boards you wouldn’t think would work just completely change everything.” The kid is right, my friends, and he’s far wiser than his grumpy old neighbor.
The second I allowed my guidelines and parameters to shift, I cracked open the doors of perception and was guided towards a new experience. Hmm. That might sound as though I’ve read too much Aldous Huxley or spent too many months ‘California sober;’ but it is what it is. I’m surfing better than ever and realizing that I don’t actually know exactly what I want to ride, or precisely how I want to surf. That sense of openness is freeing and inspires growth, so why not give it a shot? In the meantime, I’m having Nino over for a bacon cheeseburger. The guy deserves it.
