Essay: I Take it For Granted

I Take it For Granted

I remember back in the day, the surf report consisted of asking my dad for a ride to the beach, getting out of the car, walking down the path and paddling out. Then came 976-SURF, then the County Beach Report, then Surfline and my other forecast site I check – Swell Magnet. Now I have friends who are like meteorologists always chattering on about the buoys and doing their own morning forecasts for us via text and email. I realize now that with all of the technology at our disposal, how much I take surfing for granted.

For two months I was in Hawaii on a shoot and spent so much time soaking up 75-degree water and warm days, I got spoiled. When I got back here to Southern California I logged into Surfline every day and checked the cameras and reports. There was a killer south swell, but really- drive an hour to ride some over crowded breaks? Plus, I am from LA – don’t Orange County people hate us? Then came a decent Northwest windswell. Once more, I checked the cameras every morning, yea, looks ok – but is that a close out? What is the water temperature? Looks like some fog ? Is that a fisherman on the rocks? (Would hate to get a fishing hook stuck in my arm)…and the list goes on. Finally, one morning, I do not check the cameras – I do not log into SwellMagnet, I just picked a board that I thought would be fun to ride, got into the car and drove the long 20 minutes to the beach.

The water was brown in color the wind is just switched to be directly on shore, there were about 20 people out on the peak I was hoping to get on, and the surf was dumpy, rippled and gutless. Fun.

At first contact with the water,  I felt that my 3/2 and booties were suddenly not warm enough.  My first duck dive resulted in a nice ice cream headache. Next to me in the line up a women in her mid 40’s was hooting and hollering for every wave that people caught. I immediately hated her.

I spent an hour paddling between different peaks looking for the least crowded option. I was tired, out of shape, and in a way – miserable. I wondered why I even surf for a moment. Then I got one wave, backside. I sat back on the tail and just let the board glide. No turns, no walking the nose, just plopped the board on the face, planted my feet and rode. It was pure joy. The “yelling lady” paddled up to me, “nice wave” she said with a smile. I suddenly felt warm. I started to think of my dad driving us to the beach all of those mornings – the long drawn out silence between us. A silence that would last beyond his death in my teens; till the first time I visited his grave in my late 20’s.

I quit surfing after he died, I got lost into a haze of parties and a complete loss of direction. Then, 10 years ago, I was standing on the top of the very path where my dad used to drop me off. I walked down the path carrying an old long board. I sat in the line up and thought of our friend Dave. Who was my brother’s best friend and two weeks after my dad died; would kill himself. This spot makes me think of their friendship. They were best friends and they let me tag along with them as a young corruptible annoyance. They taught me how to surf, and about life – girls, parties, and today- my brother is still a source of daily inspiration to me.

Sitting in the line up this morning,. I thought of my Dad; I think he would have loved surfing had he tried it. I thought of my niece who just passed away this Thanksgiving at three years old from cancer. She certainly would have been a water person. My friend Daryl; taken way too young too lung from lung cancer. He would have loved to be able to hit the waves just once.

How lucky am I to just be in the water right now? Dolphins pop up in front of me and I get stuck thinking of my niece. How fragile is life? Why are we even here? Maybe it is about enjoying the moments we get to have. Maybe it is about the smile I saw on my wife’s face a couple years ago when she rode her first wave. I take surfing for granted. The ocean has been such a constant in my life, and I literally forget about it. I expect it. I expect it to always be there. I work in the ocean and spend a lot of time with it – so sometimes I get into the water and just feel absent from all feelings related to surfing. It is a job. A chore. I forget that when I jump into the water it is not about being the “best” or getting more and more waves. It is about sitting still and bathing in the memories, feelings and moments that the ocean has created for me. With the cameras and the technology, I’ve forgotten this. It is not about going out on the best day possible ensuring the best waves possible.  It is about possibility. Waking up, grabbing a board, heading to the break and just seeing what it there.

It is about checking in with my Dad, with my friends, and honoring the people who I love. I realize now that in some small way, each time I paddle out, I take them with me. In some small way we get to ride and share this wonderful thing together.