I usually don’t look forward to the transition from August to September as, for me, it symbolically marks an end to summer, but this summer was different. Having talked my brother and his girlfriend, into accompanying me to a Sept. 1 surfing lesson, I anxiously awaited my chance to test the waves in Maine.
When the day finally arrived, the three of us headed into the surf shop, where we were introduced to our instructor and the full body wetsuits that would keep us warm for the next two hours. After suiting up, we made our way across the crowded beach, toward a cluster of blue surfboards propped up against the retaining wall.
Laying the boards down on the sand, our instructor said we would first practice our pop-ups on land. With our feet flexed, we practiced popping up from a paddling position on our stomachs to a standing position. While my brother and his girlfriend both easily popped up, assuming the correct stance with one foot pointed out in front of the other, my own pop-ups resembled a game of leap frog as I couldn’t figure out how to stagger my feet. Scratching his head and searching for a better way to explain the move, he said, “You’ll get it,” as we picked up the boards and headed for the waves.
The three of us belly flopped onto our boards and paddled behind our instructor. There were group lessons on either side of us and the instructors remarked, for Maine, the waves were pretty impressive that morning. It was an ideal day for surfing.
We circled around our instructor, with our backs to the oncoming waves and waited as he scanned the water’s surface, watching the formation of the waves. When it was my turn, I waited with butterflies in my stomach to hear the words, “Paddle hard” and then I began pushing my arms as fast as I could. Right before the wave lifted the board, the instructor gave it a push and yelled, “Ready, stand up!” As the wave took the board, I popped up slowly into my leapfrog position and quickly fell over backwards (or was it sideward?) into the water.
Eager to try again, I struggled to gain control of my unwieldy board and make my way back to the others. My brother and his girlfriend took their turns and as I suspected they were much more steady on their boards than I had been. With each turn, they got better and better. An experienced snowboarder and an all around good athlete, my brother’s girlfriend was a natural. She made it look so easy. She could have been balancing her checkbook as she rode the waves toward the shore.
With some advice from my instructor, I learned the trick was to stop thinking about standing up and just do it. When I managed to get my feet in the right position and stand upright, I couldn’t help but let out a cry of joy as I rode my first wave. Afterwards, meeting the eyes of people standing on the shore, I felt only slightly embarrassed.
Although I was starting to lose feeling in my arms from paddling and pushing myself up from the board, I was hooked. We spent the whole two-hour lesson in the water, refusing to take a break.
Throughout the lesson, I managed to stand up on the board four or five times. My brother and his girlfriend, old pros, learned how to make the board turn and how to ride across the waves, but I was having a ball just heading straight into shore.
As I had feared it would, my own board did pop out of the water and hit me on the head at one point, but I just shrugged it off. During another comical moment, I was hanging out on my board, watching as the instructor set my brother up for a wave, when I saw a strange look come over his face.
Apparently a huge wave, with the potential to throw me off my board, was coming up behind me. My flustered instructor couldn’t decide if I should bail out or hold on tight, but I was completely oblivious as the wave lifted my board and set me back down again.
At the end of the lesson, we dragged our boards to shore with the arm strength we had left and turned over our wetsuits. We walked across the beach, stoked to try surfing again.
–Amanda Estes