“Gentle giants...”

The winds blew strong all day from across the continent, out into the ocean. That morning we had ventured out into the water for a long surf session, with the winds shaping the waves ever so perfectly. Large walls of water approached the shore, gradually pushed up higher and higher as the bottoms dragged along the sandy bottom, while the wind feathered the top, sending spray far up and behind the incoming waves. The good conditions had drawn the masses to the water, much to our dismay. A few good waves were had despite the crowds, and our bodies were left tired from the effort. Tired was the general consensus amongst the house, and soon people dropped off one by one for afternoon naps. I stayed awake for a while, eating some late lunch and getting inspiration from a few of the surf movies downloaded onto our computer. Some time passed and I decided that a short nap would be in order with still plenty of time to venture down towards Playa Carmen for the pre-planned evening surf session.

Four in the afternoon came quickly, and those in the house began to rise. We scurried about for a while collecting our things, and were on the road with the surfboards loaded by five. The more people there are, inevitably, the longer it takes for everything to get organized, but alas we were mobilized and prepared, at least mentally, to take to the surf. With just under an hour of light left, we arrived and quickly took to the water. Large waves were breaking far offshore, and I tried to make my way out into the lineup. With the large waves came large bands of white water, trying ever so hard to impede my progress. Duck under one wave, paddle paddle, duck, repeat as necessary. I began to wonder if I would ever make it out, as each passing broken wave pulled towards the shore. My arms, tired from the extended morning session, valiantly punched through the water, left, right, left, right, as every cell screamed for a break. Just breathe through it, think of the yoga, controlled breaths delivering life into each and every cell.

After what seemed like forever, I arrived in the lineup. Three older gentlemen, grey-beards we’ll call them, eyed me suspiciously as I threatened to encroach on their waves. A quick greeting and a nod seemed to ease the tension. Would I still be surfing when I was that old I wondered? No time to ponder the question as an overhead set approached from far out. Man the battle stations, every surfer took to their boards and began paddling outside, part fear of being caught inside, part hope of catching one of these large giants. I made it safely up and over and watched one of the grey-beards make one of the waves, catching it very late as the stiff offshore wind held up the wall until the last possible second with the wall approaching vertical. I took this information in and decided whether the next wave would crash on my head, or if would hold up just as long. I started paddling across towards the peak of the next wave, in direct competition with grey-beard number two. He was already closer to the peak, so technically he had priority, but I wasn’t going to pull off until this geriatric gentleman physically stood up on his giant surfboard. The wave approached fast, and to my delight as I looked over my shoulder, the section directly behind grey-beard went beyond vertical and pitched forward. I was left alone on the wave and surged forward atop this overhead giant. No time to think, the body relies on the muscle memory as the hands switch from the feverish paddle to plant firmly on top the surfboard, with the feet springing up quickly behind. I race down the face of the wave, shift my balance and execute the bottom turn, carving hard back towards the face of the wave which is now looming a couple of feet above my head. I come up high as the wave gets near vertical and turn back down the face of the wave. A few more pumps have me racing too far ahead, so I twist my upper body back towards the already broken section and my feet and surfboard follow in a large sweeping arc. Now going the wrong direction, I make the same move in the other direction with another juicy full turn towards the right. The wall of the wave is holding up for a long time, and not breaking too fast, so I am in complete control to carve forward and back. This is definitely a top ten wave of the trip. A few turns later and I lean too far, too hard into the turn and I don’t have the speed to hold my edge, so I fall back and become consumed by the wave.

This was one of the bigger waves that I had caught all trip, but the slow breaking nature gave this beast the demeanour of a gentle giant, a friendly companion helping me along in the water. Once again, getting pounded by the incoming waves, I weakly manage to make it out to the lineup. I watch as a few of the grey-beards catch some of the waves while I catch my breath. Then another large set comes in, much like the first, and again one of the grey-beards is sitting in position to take the wave. For some reason though, he doesn’t go for it. I quickly turn and paddle hard to make the wave, and to my delight I surge forward and pop up. This wave goes even further than the first, and I am left to carve back and forth, up and down the face and well down the beach. I paddle back out at the end as it has nothing left to share with me. But that would be it for my session. The sun sets on the water and the wispy clouds turn a bright pink, reflecting in the water in a slightly darker tone on the glass-like surface. I sit for a while and take it all in. Then I am forced to paddle further inside to catch a smaller wave in the near-dark. Another great session, another great day.

The next day we would come back to the same beach, catching some more great waves. But the crowds arrive and currents get strong, leaving us well down the beach towards the rocks. I would go out later in front of our house for sunset and capture some pictures of the other surfers while my arms recover for one last session in the morning. I plan to go out early to beat the rush and catch some rising sun and offshore winds. And then we pack up camp and head north towards Tamarindo for a day so we are close to the airport to see Skya off the next day before driving back south on the mainland.

Tyler.