Is this necessary?
We all ask ourselves the same question. What’s with all of the dropping in on each other?
The elder locals will consider it the end of days – or at least the end of an era – having 400 groms existing only in their own euphoric worlds, dropping in like they own the place. They are like a pack of wolves waiting to pounce on their prey. The thing is, they won’t even wait for you to fall. They just go.
The supposedly relaxed vibe of surfing flips on its head and every lineup looks like a battlefield. The competitiveness of it all is unbearable. It’s not like each wave decides a world title. It’s not as if each barrel were life or death. It’s just a bloody wave.
If you surfed at Winki 30 years ago, you would have seen a quiet lineup of experienced surfers sharing perfect, head high right handers. Surfers had respect for the person flying down the line, even hooting for them while they’d fire through on a bomb. It was an unwritten system of rules designed for sharing waves. The thing is, those rules have flown out the window. Today, most of you would see this situation almost weekly: show up to Winki with 50 guys already out. It’s one foot. You paddle out, wait for 20 minutes, watch the fight around you and finally catch a wave. You paddle hard, you stand up, but someone creeps on to your right as they stand up and go. You’ve been burned.
Naturally, there’s an urge to say something. But they’re twelve and maybe you don’t want to hurt their feelings. After four more waves, you’ve collected four more drop ins, so you make your way in. You sit there and watch, observing everything around you and ask, “How did this generation of kids learn this?”
That’s the question that should be asked. Ask yourself what you’re teaching your own children, or the next group of groms, either directly or by setting an example. Are they learning this strictly from their peers? The so-called drop in surf city needs to stop for the sport of surfing, to bring it back to the way you and I always hear “how it used to be.”
