Last week, I spent a week in Oahu, Hawaii, giving a workshop for music teachers and a master class to talented young musicians at the Masaki School of Music. I was pleasantly surprised by the students’ high level of musicianship in this paradise. My relationship with Nancy Masaki, the school’s director and also a cellist at the Hawaiʻi Symphony Orchestra, started about three years ago, when I needed a space to practice during my vacation. She has graciously allowed me to practice there ever since. I can relax better during vacation if I can access a piano, even if just for a little bit. Because of this secured spot to practice, Oahu has been my go-to spot to decompress and take a break.
That was also the first time I had seen beautiful Waikiki Beach full of surfers, from beginners to advanced. Living in San Diego, surfing was always a possible option, but I never thought of trying it.
Waikiki was different. Something about that blue, wide-open water with Diamond Head as the backdrop made everything, even surfing, inviting and doable.
I told my boyfriend that I would try surfing the following day for the first time. As an avid surfer, he welcomed the idea and perhaps internally shouted, YES! He had gently nudged the idea of surfing a couple of times, but my answer was always firm: No.
Looking at the clock right before my first surf, it said 3:00 a.m. I had been watching dozens of “How to Surf” YouTube videos all night, trying different pop-up techniques on the yoga mat. By the sunrise, I felt ready. Like an Olympian before a match, I could imagine myself gliding down the ocean like a pro from those videos.
My boyfriend showed me how to put on a leash, and he started to paddle out without much explanation. I hurried back and followed him. Though I had no surfing experience, I was a good swimmer. Just swim with a board on my belly. Not a big deal, right? The place he took me was a surf break called “Pops,” which took at least 20 minutes for us to paddle out. It felt long, but I didn’t say anything. Later, I learned that “Pops” is an unusual surf break, as one must paddle a long distance from the shore. It felt like I was swimming across a football stadium twice, back and forth.
When we finally arrived, three or four locals were waiting for the wave at the break. Another thing I didn’t realize was that it was a six- to eight-foot wave day. To give some perspective, I consider anything bigger than four feet too big for me, knowing what that feels like now. Surely, that day, the waves looked giant, making me paddle even more outside to be safer. As I was the furthest out in the lineup, one local finally shouted to me, “It is YOUR turn!” noticing that I had been waiting for a while, passing good waves back to them.
Finally, I paddled close to one of them and announced with a smile, “Hi! This is my first day of surfing! I’m so happy to be here today!”
I still vividly remember the locals’ facial expressions at that moment, looking perplexed and confused. One of them told me nicely that I was in the wrong spot as a first-time surfer and asked how in the world I could paddle out this far as a beginner.
Finally, my boyfriend suggested going to a beginner-friendly spot. I think that all along, he knew I was in the wrong place, but he probably needed to take a couple of big waves before babysitting me. Just like I had envisioned, one wave approached from far away. I started to paddle to catch it, and there I was, riding my first wave ever on my belly. I couldn’t pop up that day, but I caught seven unbroken green waves on my belly, screaming like a little kid every time.
When I came back to San Diego, I announced that I would give surfing a solid six months with total effort. Knowing how challenging this sport might be, anything under six months didn’t seem right. After purchasing my first board, I faced the first challenge. I didn’t have a surf rack on my little Fiat car. I found out that there was no way I could install a surf rack on this particular car model. That was when I drove to a used-car dealer shop and switched my car to a Mini Cooper. It’s a similar small car, but now with a surf rack. The dealer asked if there was anything in particular I was looking for, and I said, “I just need a surf rack.”
I thought everything would be smooth sailing from there, except it wasn’t. Apparently, the real test hadn’t started yet. The following month, I was in agony of being unable to pop up on the board, no matter what I tried. Almost toward the end of that first month, I started to think I was not a person who could surf, period. In the big picture, yes, a month is not long, but it felt like an eternity. Every time when I came back from “surfing”—which wasn’t surfing at all as I was just floating in the water—I felt stupid, uncoordinated, intimidated, frustrated, and, mostly, sad. Popping up seemed an impossible task, no matter what I tried. If I can’t stand on the board, it is NOT surfing. It is called boogie boarding . . .
One beautiful morning (I still hadn’t succeeded in my pop-up), my surf coach, a female champion surfer named Michelle Bautista, told me, “Today, you will pop up on the board, no matter what.” She was holding a shiny wooden board in her arms. Apparently, what she brought that day for me was a family treasure: an 11-foot balsa board. Balsa is a lightweight wood that makes a board buoyant and glide easily. Such boards tend to be heavy and often pricey, too. She said she was late because it took longer than she thought to remove the board from its place as a wall decoration that morning.
I didn’t know how valuable the thing was, but I could tell it had a particular look, as if it had a spirit. Just like a piano made out of wood, something about a board made of wood was different to touch, hold, and paddle. It has its own way of existing in the water. When the first good wave was approaching, Michelle said, “Go ahead, paddle, and pop up!”
The next few seconds were vague, as when I woke up from those seconds, I was flying on the water with the beautiful balsa board under my feet. I looked to the left, where I wanted to go, and the board led the way, making a smooth turn. Just like that, I got to pop up and surf for the first time. Michelle was ecstatic, screaming behind me and praising me for turning the board in the first pop-up.
All I can say is that I had been mind-surfing for so long that my body knew what to do once I got up.
The rest is history.
No, I am not good at surfing, but I am happy to report that I can pop up and ride a wave. I like a gentle two-to three-foot wave at sunrise in mild weather.
I look uncool in water as I cover myself from head to toe, literally, except my eyes. I look like a ninja, positively speaking.
After six months of giving surf a full trial, I finally realized that there was a missing piece in my life that surf was teaching me, a connection with nature, and being a beginner at something all over again.
Last week in Oahu, I surfed almost every morning. Many beginners were trying this sport for the first time and catching their first waves. Seeing them from a distance made me realize how far I’ve come and how grateful I am to have surfing in my life.
What is the thing that you tried for the first time and made you learn a life lesson through doing it? Please share it with me!
Have a wonderful week!
💕Jeeyoon
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