Learning to surf on a shortboard does not increase your sex appeal. Especially if you look like this. Photo: Mick De Paola
Fifteen-year-old me wanted to learn how to surf. This was part of a grand teenage scheme to increase my sex appeal – having just learned how to play guitar, I thought that learning to surf as well would be an irresistible combination to women, surely turning my bedroom into a nonstop sexual turn style (spoiler alert – it did not). These were the early days of the modern Al Gore created internet, so guides for newcomers were not readily available like they are today. If you wanted advice, you had to go about it the dreaded old fashion way – asking other humans.
So, I put the future of my sex life in the hands of my family and friends that surfed, asking them if they knew what constitutes a good first surfboard. Master Shaper Wav E. Storm was still years away from bursting onto the scene, so there was no obvious go-to recommendation for a beginner on a budget like myself. The consensus from everyone I polled was that I needed a board at least a foot taller than me. There was no mention of shape, width, or volume – only the 12-plus-inch requirement.
Perhaps they secretly did not want me to surf, because this is erroneous advice. But it’s what I took to be the truth at the time. This led me to the purchase of my first board: a sun-drenched, yellowish-brown 6’6″ high-performance shape with a giant pink hibiscus flower emblazoned near the nose. At $70 and exactly one foot taller than me, it was perfect. Lacking money and knowledge, I thought I had scored an excellent, cool-looking stick.
Dear reader, it did not look cool. Naïve and filled with hope, I set out to learn on this dilapidated monstrosity.
What followed were three months of annihilation. I was wildly unprepared for the fickle nature of a shortboard. Almost every wave was a wipeout, and every wipeout a massacre. There were pearlings and poundings, tombstones and torture, drubbings and defeat. After every session, it was not uncommon for random adults to approach me to ask if I was alright. I waved them off since my body was still in one piece. There was nothing the lifeguards could do for my shattered confidence.
When I wasn’t being driven into the sand, my thin shortboard would often miss waves completely. Despite paddling and kicking like a madman, I was rarely able to get into that cresting sweet spot. On the few waves I did latch onto and attempted a pop-up, the unstable board immediately wobbled and sent me free-falling into the ocean.
After three months of what I will generously refer to as “surfing” every day, I had yet to catch a singular wave. I did get to one knee a few times, but those don’t count. I didn’t come here to bodyboard. Each day had begun filled with promise that it would be the day I would stand up on a wave. And each day ended with shame and a saltwater enema. Does everyone have to go through masochistic rituals to learn this wretched sport?
As it turns out, no. Shortly after the three-month mark, I caught my first real, unbroken wave – on someone else’s board. It was a BIC 7’4 fun shape. In these pre-soft top days, impenetrable surfboards comprised of ballpoint pens and cheap lighters were all the rage. Ironically, this board also had a giant pink hibiscus flower on the nose.
The process was easy by comparison. The voluminous board only required a few strokes to get into the wave, while the wider shape provided extra stability to get to my feet and find balance. I still face planted at the end of the wave – I was still learning how to start surfing a wave; ending it was a separate matter. But that’s neither here nor there. I rode a wave and felt victorious.
But I was also a sucker. In my desperation to learn how to surf, I followed some terrible advice and fell into a typical novice surfer trap – buying a shape that looked like what I saw in magazines and assuming it would fit my needs instead of finding something big and forgiving. Those few months were destined to be filled with failure regardless of board choice, I could have at least had some fun along the way. Besides, no one finds wipe outs attractive.
