Surfs Up

My nerves were bundled into a tight coil in my stomach that extended down my limbs and rattled them uneasily. I was sitting idly on the sandy floor of an abandoned and dilapidated restaurant yet could feel the increasing tension trying to push the recently devoured eggs and beans back up my gullet. My bodies fight or flight response was activated and I was amazed by the sincerity in its willingness to evacuate its bowels. I hung my feet over the peeling beachfront wall and watched another set come rolling around the point. Rising from the loose patch of boulders, the walls of barreling water rose up and careened into the bay. A pair of surfers paddled into the first waves of the set and stood up as the waves crested and dumped them over the falls. The rest of the set walloped the pair stuck in the break with frothing masses of whitewash as they scrambled to duck dive the slop before it dragged them back to the rocky shore. The local El Salvadorean surf dude at my hostel, complete with California surfer accent, assured me that this was the easiest wave in town.
“You just gotta go for it”

El Tunco – not the spot I surfed but the epicenter of surf in El Salvador

That sounded encouraging when I was standing on the hostel terrace watching the waves off in the distance, their speed still scary but their size and stature diminished by the perspective. Now I was sitting on the crumbling wall above the launch point where the waves leapt over a minefield of tumbling stones with my leash strapped and my stomach in knots. The locals in the shadows of the deserted building were whistling as each set approached and then Ooo’ing and Aww’ing as each wave either tore a surfer apart or shot him off across the bay. From the jungly foliage a pair of scrawny local teens appeared with surf boards in hand. The boy topped out at one hundred pounds soaking wet and the girl looked like a rogue wave would snap her in half. They strapped their leashes and flung their arms in an unsteady stretch before charging off down the black sand. Now I had to go out.

I paddled out behind the pair and got swept with the current across the horseshoe bay, the rip taking me out and around the crashing beasts to my right. My arms went rubbery as I moved into the twentieth minute of my paddle out, the going slow as the ocean let me out at its own pace. Finally, I came in from the side of the break at the long rocky point and laid out on my board to let my noodly arms recover from their wheeling. From my new perspective six inches above the dark blue water, the real nature of the beast emerged. A wide set appeared and the girl from the local pair paddled madly for a speeding wave only to fall short and wind up in the infield where the ensuing waves scrambled her back to the beach. Ocean one, surfers zero. I waited for the set to clear and paddled over to the shoulder of the breaking waves where I set my goals for the day modestly, stand up.
I sat on my board and looked back towards the coast, the jumbled stretch was a series of deep bays set amongst rocky cliffs with towering jungle rising from the shoreline. The array of green against the steel blue of the sea was a startling juxtaposition for the eyes and I felt I was staring out at the set of a big budget Hollywood film. The blasting sun blazed my skin and my thoughts drifted in the stunning setting. Just then, a voice behind whistled out and I turned to see a wave setting up perfectly behind me. The big face was closing on me rapidly and the other surfers disappeared over its back as they hollered out, paddle, paddle, paddle. The big blue monster was arching like a cobra and lifting itself eight or nine feet off the surface as it hurtled menacingly towards me. My muscles shot with adrenaline and I paddled like a drowning cat to intercept the wave. Lined up on the hulking shoulder I felt the board carry up the steep wall and right as it reached the top, catch. I pushed myself off the wobbly surface and stood up for the drop down the waves face. The board tapped the energy of the wave as I crouched and took off like a speeding bullet. It all happened to quick and as the board shot down the face it also shot out from under my feet. The wave quickly picked me up in its watery arms and carried me up and over the falls, the peak driving me down and tumbling me along the sandy floor. I waited for the spinning to stop and the beast to let me out of its grip before I tried to locate the surface. Disoriented from the assault, I pushed off in several directions before my brain set itself straight and led me back towards the light. I emerged gasping for air and drained from the fight. I pulled on the leash and reined in my board as I laughed at the beating I just took. I thought about all the waiting, positioning, and paddling just to get my ass handed to me by Mother Nature. For a half hour of work I got ten seconds of practice on the back of the beast. When was I going to get anywhere? Then I thought, it was all worth it and turned my board back out to sea.