SURFING

BY RHYS MULVEY

The ocean waves came with a CRASH! Down on the hot, baking sand. Fish were leaping out of the water like rabbits fleeing from a bear. People were lining the coast, relaxing on the hot day.

I was panicking and wishing I was anywhere but here right now. Terrible thoughts were filling my head like a bicycle pump. What if there are sharks? What if I break my leg? What if I get lost at sea?

I was on vacation in Costa Rica, and this was my first time surfing. Ever. 

“Okay, hop on your board and I’ll paddle you out,” my instructor, JJ, said. I began to move ever so slowly into the water, tugging my board with the scratchy, black velcro ankle strap that attached me to my board. Usually I was familiar with the nice, cool touch of the waves and the soft swishing of water as I waded through waist-deep ocean. I had always loved the waves. Whenever we went to the beach, I was the first one to dive underwater. Whenever we had friends staying, I would pound into the waves and splash and play when everyone else was too scared. But this? Surfing? I was terrified.

When I reached JJ I clambered onto the slippery surface of the surfboard, lying on my stomach, afraid of what would come next. He pushed off and started walking quickly through the water, holding my board the whole time. I breathed to calm myself down. I can do this. 

We were now shoulder-deep. JJ paddled me out a little more, and then we stopped. I glanced nervously back at him. He didn’t see my worried expression. Again, I told myself, I can do this.

I spotted a wave coming. A huge one. 

“Okay, here we go!” exclaimed my instructor. I can do this. The wave got closer. I can do this. He gave me a big shove and I rocketed off. I can do this I can do this I can do this I can do this… I took a deep breath and pulled myself up from my stomach to my knees to my feet. 

“Try to maintain balance!” I could hear my dad shouting. I had no idea what maintain meant but I guessed it meant something like keep, so I kept my balance. 

“Bend your knees!” JJ shouted.

I politely replied, “AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!” 

I was tipping, which I guessed was not good. So I tipped over the other way, sending me toppling over into the waves. I had made a new record in surfing: FIVE SECONDS! 

“Uh, nice try,” said my brother, standing over me.

“Ow,” I said. 

I tried again. Another huge wave was preparing to make me a pancake. JJ shoved me at the wave. I went up, up, up the slope of the giant wall of water… My board and I hovered in midair for a few seconds before crashing down with a SLAP! from the surfboard and a loud OOOF! from me.

At the next big wave JJ shoved me off and I stood up stomach, knees, feet. I bent my knees but I could feel myself tipping forward again. As the ground got closer and closer I braced for impact…

SLAM! I fell face first into the sandy ground and my leg sliced against the board’s fin. I could feel the wet trickle of a mix of blood and water running down my leg. Pain throbbed in my skin and the salty water didn’t make it feel any better. As I sat up and saw the cut, it hurt but I knew it could be worse. 

After that we tried a number of times to improve my lousy surfing, but luck did not succeed. Try after try, the board went screaming toward the beach, and try after try I went flying off backwards. We did this for about forty minutes. I was starting to think I would never be able to surf. But I told myself I could. I just needed to believe in myself. 

“We only have time for four more rides,” called JJ. I sighed. This was my last chance to REALLY get a good ride in- even for a few seconds. I took a deep breath and hurried off toward my instructor. Another wave rolled up to us, and I slowly started standing up. I was going faster and faster. Just a few seconds… The wave caught up to me, drowning my feet. I was ejected backward and landed on my back. If it weren’t for all the water, I probably would have hurt myself badly. 

Suddenly I felt a harsh tugging on my right ankle. Huh? I thought. Then I was abruptly sucked underwater, being pulled quickly forward on my back. I figured out what was happening. I had stopped surfing, but the board had not.

I could feel rocks scraping at my spine. Sand was seeping into my mouth, like water rushing toward a cliff. I could not breathe. I could feel the shells tearing at my skin. Fish scurried out of the way as if I was a train off its tracks. I gathered all my strength and shot up through the water, gasping for air and swimming toward shore with what energy I had left. I tumbled onto the sand and lay sprawled out under the setting sun, knowing I would never be able to surf.

I could hear voices shouting at me to get up, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to go to our beautiful rental house and relax. But I only had three tries left. Three tries to learn how to surf…

I sat up. 

This was my last chance. My last chance. I had to do it this time. I just had to. I came here to surf. So I would surf. This was it. The moment of truth. I stood up. I prepared to tackle the waves, hop on my board, and whoosh into the sunset.

I practically dragged my body into the water. My cuts were stinging now, as if the shells were still pressing up against my skin, as if the little mini knives were still there. But I trooped into the deep, more confident then I had felt today. I walked up to JJ and without a word threw myself onto my board. I paddled out deeper and deeper until I had found the perfect spot, a nice patch of sea just waiting for me to come. I could feel JJ’s eyes burning into my head, watching my every move, waiting expectantly. That was when I spotted the perfect wave, barreling toward me, bound to crash at the very spot at which I lay now. I slowly turned around and focused hard on my one extremely important target: the beach that laid out before me like a finish line staring me in the face… 

The wave crashed. My board leaped forward through the water, spraying bits of the ocean in my face. Energy surged through me like it had never before. All the power I had used up on all my other tries? It was like it all came flooding back to me in the colossal wave I was on at that very moment. I was a raging powerhouse. It was like someone had plugged me into an electrical circuit. I knew this was the one ride I would prove myself.

I restarted the ritual- belly, knees, feet: and just like that, I was riding. I could feel the wind whipping my face, the tiny splashes of water against my toes. I could see the beach getting closer and closer… I was doing it. I was surfing. Really, really surfing. “WHOO-HOO!” I screamed, feeling the excitement and joy I had always wanted to feel. A kind of joy I had never felt. Surfing. It was incredible.

Until the wave sucked down my board and the world flipped upside down. Uh-oh, I thought. I prepared to splash into the cold, wet water.

But I didn’t.

I slammed into the soft sand of the beach.

The Beach.

I had surfed all the way to the beach!!!

I had multiple cuts on my legs and back, but I had definitely, absolutely surfed. All the way to the beach. In my first lesson! I could barely contain myself. I stood up and walked over to my board.

I needed to continue. 

No. I WANTED to continue. Because the truth was, and still is, I LOVE surfing!