Conquering Winter

This is a very strange story. Of a surfing lesson on January 5th, 2010 in the freezing Northern Atlantic ocean.

The day did not mean to begin this way.

As I accompanied Amanda and Ellen to their surfing lesson, wrapped up in my warm winter coat and clutching a thermos of milky tea, my cunning plan was to sit in the car and write in my notebook as I watched them wrestle with Mother Nature. I had absolutely no desire to get into freezing waters and tempt hypothermia myself.

But then everything changed. When we arrived at Kennebunk and the surf shop that used to be a church, and went inside and met Nancie who threw wetsuits at us all in her loud-voiced, dude-lingo'd ways, I retreated in horror and pointed out that I would only be watching from the land. But then my curiosity awoke.


We got to the beach, a posh part of Maine's seafront and close to George Bush Senior's pad. The beach was of course, deserted, except for a few dog walkers wrapped up in fur hats, scarves and thick winter coats. We proceeded to carry boards down to the shore and lay down on them on the sand as Nancie talked us through the process of getting on a wave. Then we ran into the sea.

Now, this may strike you as insanity. The concept of going for a swim when the outside temperature was approximately 0 Celsius may strike you as suicide. But the wet suits were supremely insulated, we were covered from head to toe and the only part of skin showing was my face. Thus it felt warmer in my suit than it did in Bonnie and Carl's swimming pool in Massachusetts in the middle of summer. Plus, it was impossible to not feel like a superhero in that thing.

Nancie stood way back in the shallow waters and held our boards until a wave came, at which point she would yell "PADDLE!" and we would race out until the wave caught the board and gave it a funny momentum, and then you'd hear her screeching "GET UP!" and you would calmly place your knee and fingers on the board and raise yourself.

I loved it. Time slowed down when the wave's energy infiltrated the board. It was like entering a meditative zone where thoughts had to be banished for pure concentration. And, of course, standing up was a tai chi maneuver all in itself.

We paddled and raced and sputtered in the waves for an hour and a half and afterwards I felt alive. Upon getting home and having a hot shower and drinking Mexican hot chocolate by the fire, it was the realization that I had conquered winter. I had taken it head on and thrown myself into its power. And as a result, I felt weirdly at home. Although the land changes from South China to Southern Maine, the ocean is the same. And swimming in its hold is the same joy.

So, will this become Clare's new hobby? Will she turn into a surfing champion? We'll have to see. But for now, I am highly, highly amused by it all. And awaking this morning, I did not view the outside white world with nearly as much trepidation. Surf on dudes!