the first time

I lick salt spray from my lips and cold water rushes across my feet. I shiver. Do I really want to get in there? The waves loom menacingly on the horizon.

(So big, I’m so small.)

The board, wedged under my armpit, feels heavy. I curse my arms for being too short, the board too wide to hold comfortably. Having navigated this far down jagged shells and stony beach, fighting against this unseasonal wind which knocks me comically sideways, I wonder, is this really August? And more importantly, what am I doing here?

Another breaking swell smashes into my shins and knees. There’s nothing for it. I place the board on the surface. It floats giddily away, gently tugging on my ankle. I’m frightened but walk purposefully forward. Creeping deeper into the seeping cold. The snugness of my wetsuit is oddly reassuring as the board bobs alarmingly beside me. Beneath my numb feet, the velvet sand feels warm. Soft and still. Unlike here on the surface where water and air whip and spin wildly.

(What if I get disorientated?)

Suddenly, I’m waist high, chest deep. I’m not confidant enough to paddle out so I push myself forward, my six foot floating device effortlessly guiding me over the waves, lifting my feet as they pass beneath me. The top of a breaker slaps me full in the face. It’s exhilarating because I don’t drown. Each rise and fall creates an involuntary but victorious gasp.

As the ocean tilts and collects itself, I turn the board around and hoist myself on top. It’s not graceful. It takes several goes. I go right over the top and under a couple of times. Any ego (left on the beach along with dry clothes) is forgotten. Eventually, I position myself on top of the board. It rocks side to side as I struggle to gain my balance. And then I look back and wait…

The first wave rolls beneath me uneventfully. Passed through like a ghost. Disappointed, I watch someone closer to shore catch it on the turn. Hmm. I paddle. It's hard to get motion in the constantly undulating surface. I paddle harder still. Damn these short arms. Another wave slides beneath me. And then. And then. And then a wave captures my board unexpectedly. It throws me forward. I’m gliding! I’m flying! The sheer speed! The board rises above the water, stable, solid, rocketing towards the beach. I’m so overwhelmed I forget to try and stand. I'm on my knees. It seems to last forever. I belly laugh as I roll off, splattering onto sodden sand. The tide pulling at my toes and board.

“Did you see that? Did you see that?”

Water (I hope it’s just water) streams from my nose and face. I pick up the board and pad right back in. Fear and cold forgotten just to experience it all again.