Learning about the Ocean and me (or why I started to bodyboard at 57)
I am pushing beyond my comfort zone to learn a sport that often requires full submersion in water. Why, at 57 years of age, am I motivated to learn a physically strenuous activity that requires negotiating 2 to 5 feet walls of water traveling at an average speed of 23 miles an hour? For the adrenal rush? To face my fears? To reinvent myself in my new life?
It’s not like a woke up one morning and thought, “how about taking up a sport with the potential of drowning.” I have an affinity for the water. My family cottage sits on the edge of a wide, slow-moving river in Central Canada. The story goes that my parents and older cousins were swimming around the dock and a 2 year old me was harnessed in a jolly jumper attached to a nearby tree. Dad saw me straining against the contraption so he released me from the bindings. I marched down the path to the dock and without pause, I jumped off the edge into the water. I became and remain a strong, confident swimmer. Through the years, I have spent time on beaches in Australia, the Caribbean, and Hawaii watching surfers but never took the chance to learn.
Then I met M, a life-long surfer who traveled the world to find exciting and challenging waves. Twenty-two years ago, he arrived in a remote corner of Costa Rica called Pavones on the Golfo Dulce to ride what was rumored to be the 2nd longest left hand wave in the world. After several visits, he purchased a small farm. On our first trip here, I fell in love not just with him but this tropical tranquility. In moving here, M is fulfilling his two great goals: planting an organic food forest and surfing in warm water anytime.
Changing the direction of my life and moving to another country with a different language, I decided to explore a new passion that I can share with M and fulfill my enjoyment of spending time in the water. I chose bodyboarding over surfing because I don’t have the upper body strength to “pop up” from a prone position to stand on a narrow fast-moving plank. (Probably, if I dedicated myself to practicing push-ups every day, I could do it but life is too short.) Bodyboarding is easier to learn as you remain prone on your stomach and the board is short and light. A definite plus when I’m tumbling wildly over a crashing wave and my board smacks me.
It is 2 years now and after days and days of taking a pounding while paddling out to where I can catch a wave, I can truly say that I’m having fun. In those first many months, it required all the persistence that I could muster to stay in the water. Some days, I was so tumbled around in the surf that i got out and sat on the beach. Watching M and other friends as they skimmed along the leading edge of a breaking wave, I knew that if I wanted to feel that thrill, it wasn’t going to happen if I stayed on the beach.
When a 4 foot wall of churning foam steams towards me at 23 miles an hour, a twinge of fear kickstarts a plan of action. In my head, I hear the soundtrack of an old WW II movie about a submarine under attack, the klaxon is sounding and the Captain is shouting, “Dive, Dive, Dive.” And just 1 second before the leading edge of the foaming mass reaches me, I duck dive under the wave. It literally feels like water rolling down my back. Sometimes the force is so great that it rips off one of my swim fins. Fortunately, I have them attached to leashes around my ankles. Once the wave passes, I can slip the fins back on. The physically challenging part of this sport is that I may have to face 3-4 of these churning walls of foam just in my paddle from the shore to the “outside.” Depending on the tides and the current, it sometimes seems that I am paddling in place. On those days, I really have to dig deep not just with my arms into the water but also into my determination to power myself forward. My persistence built my physical and mental stamina and I now know that after “Dive, Dive” diving under what seems like hundreds of waves, I will come out safely on the other side.
When I arrive on the “outside,” (the distance from shore before the swell breaks,) it is heaven floating over the gentle swells under whip cream puffs of clouds framed by a blue sky, While I am “outside,” the undulations of water gently lift and drop me. I look around to the faraway western shore of the Osa Peninsula or north to where the mountains slide down to the gulf’s shore. Occasionally, a turtle will pop its head up near me. The water is warm and mild with an average of 82F. I could spend all day out there.
As delightful as floating is, it is the thrill of riding a wave that brings me out there. To ride a wave, you have to catch it. Therein lies the challenge. The goal is to position you and your board in the sweet spot just a few feet in front of where the crest of the wave breaks. No two waves break in the same place. I watch for several minutes to see where the waves are consistently cresting, I paddle to a spot where I think there is a good chance that a wave will break. I see a good candidate moving toward me, as the swell of the wave pushes up against the sea floor, the building pressure makes the wave “stand up.” The sunlight reflects like a thousand sparkling diamonds on the rippling surface as a wave “stands up.” I rotate my board to face the shore, I paddle like crazy as you need travel in the water at a similar speed of the wave. If I time it all correctly, the magic happens. The steep wall of smooth water pushes me forward and I slide down its face. I am flying before the curling crest of the wave. I speed along until the wave nears the shore. Then its time to bail, I pull up my board, slide to the back of the wave as to avoid to washing up onto the pebbly beach. Next I paddle back out and repeat the process. Adrenalin gives me an extra push to dive under the oncoming waves. All I want is to find another smooth, exhilarating ride. It is 15 seconds of heart-pumping action for 15 minutes of physical effort. And it is worth it.
I didn’t get here alone. M and friends offered lots of guidance. I watched many “How To” YouTube videos. After all this, I realize that I am not too old to learn something new. It is not as easy as when I was younger. Yet the benefits are immeasurable. I’m in the best shape of my life, M and I enjoy a common interest, and I emerge from the water with emotional satisfaction. It frames with rest of my day with joy and energy.
There are rules of etiquette and a hierarchy in surfing. All the surfers that I have met are generally gregarious and laid-back. Though that camaraderie disappears when it comes to catching a wave. That is where the “line up” etiquette comes into play. At our local beach, the hierarchy stands with surfers at the Point break, bodyboarders at the “corner” and Stand up boards in front of Fish Camp. Rarely are there other bodyboarders so I can choose to ride any wave. Depending on the conditions, sometimes the surfers crowd down into my spot. Since I’m a newbie, I am magnanimous in letting a surfer grab a wave. Even the most genial of people on land can turn into laser-focused wave hogs if they see a wave that they deem is theirs. Fortunately, the ocean and wind provides us with an infinite number of waves. It’s like catching a bus, another one will be along soon.
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