Who are these people? People from all corners of the globe traveling in search of this momentary bliss. What treasure have they found? What is pacified by communing with the ocean in this way? What is achieved within this fleeting moment of gliding pleasure? It took me years to find the answer.
I first set eyes on these types when I was youngster. Out during whipping winds of passing Hurricanes off Americas eastern seaboard, I had watched on occasion as a group gathered jetty side. It never appeared to me as fun but seemed laden with constant setbacks and hard work. Nothing about it appeared rewarding nor could I justify taking time out to experience such thrashings.
It was not until a particular rainy day, a day we lost our sailboat, that I decided to take to this activity. As my father was buried in conversation while draped over with a heavy heart, I accepted an invitation to escape the misfortune and went out for my first surf.
My time spent in the waves was short and confusing. I was by no means unaccustomed to being on the ocean and her waves. No, the years spent with my father sailing the coast had taught me much about natures fickle tendencies. The days ocean rhythm, I tapped into quickly while my eyes easily picked out and followed the white tops of the incoming waves. But the challenge was to accurately find that space and time where one needs to be in order to ride the moving liquid lines. The "zone" was the place I had not visited before and I was continually punished during my short session.
But just as I called it quits, it was at that point when the ocean lifted me and sent me forth in a burst of speed. This momentary push, ignited a rush that stayed with me from that moment forward and was a sensation I would be forever in search of.
