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Rhythm of the Waves

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We left our heroines in Puerto Rico, realizing that paradise isn’t perfect. They narrowly escaped fire coral, sea urchins, and being crushed by gigantic waves - and that was just the first day.  Debra and I wondered if we’d ever get our surfing groove, while Maria and Christina didn’t seem to have any such qualms.    Not to be deterred, we headed back to the beach, this time with a coach highly regarded in Latin America, Robert Ferrer. The ocean gods granted us smaller waves (shoulder height), so paradise was already better.  I told Robert I wanted to be doing top and bottom turns, which seemed almost impossible at the time.  We all paddled out, greeting new friends we’d met the previous night at Robert’s small feast and jam-fest.    Robert is very practical and believes in giving small, easily digestible instructions – little things that make such a big difference. He intends to gently instill confidence.  He explained when to compress (squat on the board) and where to look for a bott

Puerto Rican Adventure

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Finally!  We spent most of Covid incubating our Puerto Rican dream - and it was FINALLY here.  The three of us, Maria, Debra, and I were in PR ready to surf!  Maria, a native Spanish speaker, had gone down three weeks early. She got a house for us, and, being Maria, made many friends. Her closest friend was Christina, a recent transplant from Alaska and a relatively new surfer (and good musician).    Debra, Maria, and Christina are go-for-it people. It’s a combination of athletic confidence and willingness to do things even when scared. We decided to go for it and head to the beach.  (Maria, dubbed “Princessa d’Agua” by Robert)   The morning was sunglasses-bright and tropically warm. We walked through the trees to the beach with our rented boards and DAMN! The waves were BIG! At first glance, they seemed out of my and Debra’s range. Maria told us that the waves in PR are gentle giants. We trusted that, once we got out, they would seem friendlier. We were there to surf, so we went fo

Haven Wave

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The first time out with my coach, Robbie Nelson, we were catching 2-to-3-foot waves in a place called “The Haven.” This place is known for offering the perfectly formed wave when the swell hits a certain size. We were there for smaller waves, but there was one wave that made the height requirement. Robbie looked at it with open-mouthed awe and stated, “Now, that’s a HAVEN WAVE.”   For me it was a water wall of  terror, but I remember thinking, “What would it be like to surf well enough to really ride one of those waves?” The distance between my surfing and the skill required to play on one of those waves was, as they say in surfing circles, EPIC!    I had a long, easy-to-paddle board named Queen Mary, a wetsuit, excitement, and commitment. I was committed to competing some day, proving to myself and anyone who noticed that age is no excuse for not pursuing your goals. Given my ability at the time, competing was a “stretch goal.” If I could do one of those waves justice, I reasoned,

Kidneys and Goofy Grins

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  “Kidneeeys!” she said, pointing to the place on her head where the brains should be. That was my sister in her obnoxious period, which lasted a really long time. The Kidneys-for-brains response happened whenever someone made a stupid decision; like jumping off the roof with an umbrella, thinking that would help slow the descent, or leaving your shoes in the common-space, (my father’s pet peeve; he would hide them – separately). My sister would pipe up and reinforce just how stupid your decision was. Thanks to Beachbum07720 in insta I found myself hearing her voice in my head as I was watching the first rays of dawn come up on my left. I was driving an hour South to go surfing at dawn in January. The commitment to surfing in the cold winter air and ocean may rank right up there with egging the cop cars, (I only did that once), but there I was.    Anticipating cold water surfing is always a battle of wills. Part of my brain is saying, “What if my wetsuit has a leak I don’t know about?

Pandemic Freedom: Surfing!

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“How are you doing ?” is by far the question of the year and the one my friend, Brenda, asks often in a serious voice. She has had a combination of cabin fever and acute uncertainty. Honestly, I don’t blame her. I have sincere bouts of the latter, but cabin fever?? – hmmmm, not really. I wouldn't rub it in her face, but I’ve been well. My secret, of course, is surfing.  Since early quarantine, I’ve been able to head to the beach with my surfboard and trade in mind-numbing electronics with salty cold water and the chance to stand on top of a wave and ride it all the way in! Ah, such bliss. While in the water, whatever is going on in the rest of the world is immaterial and it will be there when I get out.  Strange times and strange outcomes: Towns opened up weirdly, as spring became summer. In one case, there were lifeguards on the beach, surfers and swimmers in the water, but the access to the beach was fenced off! I can only imagine the town-hall Zoom conversation that ended wi

Wetsuits and Jiggly Bits

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  There should be a calorie chart for putting on a wetsuit, or, at least, a new wetsuit. The more effort required, the higher the calorie count.   I live in the Northeast, and there are only 2 months a year that I can go without a wetsuit. I’m also a complete wimp when it comes to being cold, I’m the first one with a wetsuit and other paraphernalia (booties, gloves, hoods, you name it) designed to maintain body heat while in the ocean.    I’ve decided to surf through the winter and need to buy more substantial wetsuits. Great! What size?   This is the size chart taken off an actual wetsuit website:   SIZE HEIGHT WEIGHT BUST WAIST HIPS 4 5'4" - 5'6" 105-125 31.5" - 33.5" 24" - 26" 34" - 36" 6 5'5" - 5'7" 110-130 32.5" - 34.5" 25"- 27" 35" - 37" 6T 5'6" - 5'8" 115-135 32.5" - 34.5" 25"- 27" 35" - 37" 8 5'6" - 5'8" 120-140 34&quo