Yesterday I learned to surf! The shallow, warm, calm waters of Tamarindo, Costa Rica, were known around the world for being an excellent place for beginners to learn the art of surfing. The beautiful barrels of blue crashed upon the beach in a way much more akin to the edge of the kiddie pool than Lake Michigan on a blustery day, which, since I had experienced both since a young age, gave me a sense of confidence that this hobby was my new aquatic calling. The lessons had gone extremely well, after all. My instructor, a short, smooth-talking, lean man with dark glasses shading his eyes, had been surprised when, with his push, I stood up and rode the very first wave we caught all the way to the shallows.
Of course, after a very successful first session, I had extended my board rental to the following day, hoping to find similar success. I strode down to Tamarindo from the Airbnb on the hill that my family was renting, along with the other families that made up the time immemorial friend group known as “The Tribe”. Howler monkeys whooped in the mango trees and carried their young across the slender black tendrils of the power lines, their silhouettes betrayed by a beautiful blue sky. I walked, alone, into the surf shop as soon as they opened, and picked up my board. Or was it? It was ever so different than the board I had used the other day, or at least it felt that way. Either way, it didn’t feel as lucky as it had beneath my chest when I paddled back to the group after that first thrill. The wind had picked up, and I figured I would wait for my friends to join me before I paddled out. The sea was calm, beckoning.
The first thing I remember was the beautiful, waxed wooden board of the most experienced surfer in the group, Drew, glistening against the sky as he was flung several feet into the air. A large wave materialized in front of me. Obi-Wan Kenobi came to mind: “Remember your training.” “Use the force, Nate.” I paddled, matched its speed, and felt the massive push of hundreds of pounds of seawater prompting me to stand. My right foot reached forward, while my left foot poised itself parallel to the rear of the board. I outstretched my arms and felt the rush of the wave at my back, continuing to grow stronger. I looked down and saw the front of my overly long, cumbersome beginner board plunge into the clear water. Then, antigravity, spray, foam, sky, darkness. Every second marched by, seeming like days, until my stinging eyes saw the sky once more. Tossed, like a bath toy.
There couldn’t have been a better day for it. I didn’t stop to reapply sunblock, which I paid for the next day. Sun, sea, spray, faces, boards, all blended to create a euphoric environment I haven’t recaptured since. The tiredness in our bodies, being slammed over and over, but nevertheless trying, was one of the most amazing feelings I’ve felt. It wasn’t about riding a wave in every time, or necessarily any time. It was smiles, laughs, and desperate yelps of forgetfulness. The world seemed to stop on its axis, time blurred, and for just a few hours, freedom was ours.