I always wanted to learn to surf in Australia.  I think it had something to do with the long haired, tanned beach boys as the instructors.   So when we finally got to the Sydney Beaches, I knew it was time to learn to hang ten…or drink a lot of salt water trying!  The Boy refused to join me in this ill advised life plan…something about the cold and nearly stormy skies keeping him from wanting to spend a few hours in the ocean.   Chicken. [Ed. note: not a chicken. I got a short-lived cold in China and didn’t want a repeat via a cold ocean swim.]

I got wet-suited up and given a board (green, not matter how much I hinted for a pink one…), then anticipated the arrival of our instructor…but Aussie surf god he was not.   Nope, I lucked out with the 40 year old surf bum with hair longer than mine and grey zinc oxide covering his entire face.

The class went about how I expected a surf lesson to go.   We learned to paddle and pop up while our boards lay on the sand and visitors on the beach stopped to gawk at how awkward we looked as we did this.   Then our group was deemed competent enough to get in the water.   I pushed my board out until I was waist high, then turned it around and held on as the waves kept crashing through me.   I get that I was supposed to actually get on the board for one of these waves, but I didn’t really feel up for that yet.

The beach bum instructor must have sensed my hesitation.   He walked over, grabbed my board and told me to hop on.  Then with out much time for me to think at all he started yelling “Paddle!” and I heard a wave started to crash around me so I went paddle, paddle, paddle, jump up!  And probably to everyone’s shock, but most of all mine, I was surfing!   I got up on the board on my very first try!   Surfing savant for sure.   And then I ate it.

I crashed under the waves one after another for the next 15 minutes.   I’d lay on the board and start to paddle and the wave would pull me off the board.   I’d lay on the board and get up on my knees and the surf would pull me under and fling the board above my head.   I’d lay on the board and almost stand up and then fall right back off the side.   And those stormy looking skies keeping my husband warm and dry outside of the water?   [Ed. note: damn right they were.] They made the waves crash one after the other and somehow even caused my wetsuit to come unzipped as I was trying to swim away from the neon green long board trying to crash down on my head, so suddenly I was fully immersed in the freezing ocean from head to toe…and unable to get zipped back up because my board and I were being pulled to shore!

Thankfully, I got some level of coordination back as the lesson went on and managed to surf for real a few more times before the lesson was over.   But when they offered to let us rent a board and keep practicing on our own, I declined.   My lungs full of salt water and aching core muscles let me know that my career as a surfer would need a bit more work before I could move to the beach and make a life of it…