Sometimes, a shitty day can become a source of bliss.
When I woke up this morning… I was a bit confused, to say the least. I knew there was a decent but dying swell, but I didn’t know if the surf would be good. All week, unpredictable onshore conditions had ruined the surf. I felt like an idiot for taking a week off work to surf. Murphy’s Law had struck again.
Until the last minute, I could not decide If I would go or not. My bed was so awfully tempting. “The waves must be small,” I thought, “but the wind shouldn’t be blowing yet.” Needless to say, I really wanted to surf at least once during the week. It was my last day off and last chance to surf. Finally I shook myself, swallowed a cup of tea, put my 5’4 retro twin fin fish in the car, and I was on the road.
As I got in the parking lot in front of my favorite surf spot, which is the most consistent of the region, I found glassy morning conditions, but no surf to be ridden. I sat silently on an old bench, lit a cigarette, and waited. And waited. And waited.
Finally, a set of small drainers peeled over the reef. A bit too much on the reef. I didn’t want to mess with these razor sharp tiny animals once again, so I drove to another spot further down the coast. The reef is a bit more friendly out there, but the wave itself is far from world-class. I was so hungry for surf that I went out anyway. When I got to the line-up, I felt a bit dumb. The waves were small. They were barely waves at all, in fact. And, to top it all off, I was completely out of rhythm. I was taking off on close-outs, missing all the bigger sets, paddling around like a madman, and generally surfing like a kook.
But the swell was getting slightly bigger, and the wind started to blow offshore. I finally managed to find a decent tiny one. While riding this small but well shaped wave, I passed by a young Creole bodyboarder. I had seen him a few times before in the water, along with a bunch of local kids learning to surf on old broken boogies and pieces of foam. He must be about twelve years old, and lives right in front of the spot. I got back to the line-up, said hi, and engaged a conversation. “Ki ete sa, la bouzi?” (“what is this, candle wax?”), he asked me in Kreol, pointing at the deck of my board. “Non do, wax sa! Mo mett sa lor mo board pu mo lipye pa glise,” I answered. (“No, it’s surf wax! I put it on the deck of my board so my feet wouldn’t slip.”)
He was so intrigued by the wax that I gave him a small piece I had in my pocket. He immediately tried to wax his bodyboard, and soon, tiny wax particles were floating around us. We laughed, and then I saw something on the indicator. “That’s a big set, let’s get outside,” I told him. I started to paddle to get in position, and saw the swell coming towards me. It was a damn nice little wave, for sure. I took a look at the grom: he was struggling to paddle on his old boogie. That’s when I did something unexpected.
I gave him the wave. It was the best wave of the day, and I gave it to some grom who doesn’t even know how to ride a boogie correctly. It was a one wave set. As I expected, he went straight into the white water. But when he came back, he had the most shining and beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. “Mari zoli la ul!” (“What a beautiful wave!”), he screamed, laughing his brains out.
And suddenly, the magic turned on. The swell started to pump. For about one hour, we shared beautiful little waves, cheering at each other and laughing. I tried to give him some advice on how to ride his craft properly, and, to my great astonishment, he was improving his skills on every wave he rode.
After the session, I went back to the parking lot of my favorite spot, bought a “roti” (a kind of salted pancake from India) and a Coke and sat on my bench, eating while checking the surf. I was already sun burned and stoked, but the waves looked so good that I decided to go back out. I had a blast riding those long and glassy peelers all alone for two more hours, and even managed to get out of a little tube.
I read a very nice article not long ago on The Inertia, something about giving, receiving and sharing. The author said he gave a wave to another surfer and was stoked for him. Well, quite the same story here. I suppose I had it in the back of my mind when I let the grom go, because that’s something I never do, especially when I estimate that the wave might be wasted. But I strongly believe that I had two memorable sessions just because I gave the best wave of the day to this grom. What if I didn’t? I would have went home after this wave, and missed all the rest. Just because of this genuine and simple act, my perspective changed. I was bummed and irritated, and the moment after I was stoked. I had opened the doors of perception.
