Distance makes the heart grow fonder, ehh? Photo: Joao Bracourt
I’ve not been surfing much recently. I finally bit the commitment bullet and bought a house so I’ve been drowning in plaster dust and DIY tasks. Not surfing definitely sucks, but everything’s an opportunity and my time spent away from surfing in the last couple of months has given me time to reflect. It’s made me realize that not surfing is okay, and that surfing less often could even be more fulfilling! It might seem like a crazy notion, but could living away from the ocean really make surfing better? Hear me out…
A long distance relationship with surfing means I get full value from my time. I can’t just pop down to the beach for an hour or two. Surfing for me is a commitment to significant time away from home. I make the most of poor conditions, because when I’m there I might as well surf. It’s always better than you think it is, and if not then at least you’re building knowledge of the effects of infinite weather variables. Either way it’s not wasting time.
Every time I get out, it’s more than just surfing – it’s a surf trip. I might surf less frequently than some people, but when I do, I’m fully immersed. I think of nothing but winds and tides, I’m not obliged to be back at a certain time or compelled to check e-mails. I don’t squeeze surfs into allocated time slots. When I go, I’m gone. Travelling to remote waves forces you to re-calibrate. Simplifying things is the answer – less choice and fewer decisions equals greater happiness. I’m at my most content when I’m bunking down in the back of the van with the dog in some remote corner. It’s pretty simple really, but it’s a situation I might find harder to justify if I lived closer to the beach.
I’ve always found I’m more productive when I’m on the move. The long drives can be a pain, but they offer opportunities to catch up on podcasts, music, books, or whatever else. Or maybe just to catch some quiet headspace. Trekking across a landscape which is wild, varied and picturesque doesn’t get old. Something about travelling by road, air, rail or sea always helps ideas to flow.
It’s easy to take waves for granted when you see them every day. When I was younger I dreamt of living in the mountains and snowboarding more often. Now that I do, I’m picky. When presented with powder days and world class bike trails on my doorstep I’ll drive in search of waves instead. It’s just the way we’re wired, I think. Desire and rarity keeps surfing fresh for me, and maybe that’s how I like it.
I can still feel a little bit like an outlier. No-one in my town surfs with any regularity. When I see people with boards on the roof, it’s not exactly a novelty, but it’s still rare enough to exchange smiles and waves and wonder where each other is headed. I might not get to surf every day here, but it means that I can still hold on to elements of surf nostalgia that would otherwise be lost.
I don’t get jaded by surfing. Remember what it was like before Stab Magazine and their copycat offspring? Before you realized surfing was just a bunch of bitter, frustrated, middle-aged men paddling around with scowls on their faces? Surf kinship is dead. Attempts to enter into dialogue with fellow surfers is met with suspicion, if not outright hostility. At the very least it is seen as the internationally recognized calling card of the “kook.” There are just too many surfers, too much commercialization, and not enough waves. Yet not in the cold, remote places. Surfers here retain a freshness, and there are only a very few angry, middle-aged ones.
I could easily reflect on the trials of living so far away from the ocean, and I still think about moving some days. But when I look at things objectively, I feel pretty good. My surfing lifestyle is cultivated miles away from the ocean, but I don’t feel any less fulfilled. Life gets stealthily too comfortable, and quickly too binding. Surfing for me is still escapism. Perhaps if it was part of my daily routine this wouldn’t be the case. One of the most important life lessons I’ve learned is that it’s possible to overdose on anything, no matter how much you think you love it. If you love something, keep it fresh. Surfing is no different.
