Nobody Taught Me How to Surf

Nobody taught me how to surf.

I never took a lesson.

Nobody explained surf etiquette, how to read a lineup, or where to sit in the water.

It all started when a friend invited me to go surfing with him and his dad at Diamond Head.

I didn't even own a surfboard.

His dad had an old longboard they had found somewhere and fixed up, and they let me borrow it for the day.

We paddled out to the peak.

I caught a wave.

I stood up.

I didn't fall.

I remember thinking, Maybe surfing isn't as hard as everyone says.

Looking back more than thirty years later, I couldn't have been more wrong.

Not long after that, I bought my first surfboard at a garage sale for fifty dollars.

At the time, I worked as a yard man cleaning a church every Saturday, making around $450 a month. Fifty dollars was a lot of money to me, but it was all I could afford.

Most people would have recommended a longboard for a beginner.

I didn't want one.

It looked too big to fit in the car, and I thought it would be harder to carry around. So I bought a used 6'4" shortboard instead.

Looking back, it probably wasn't the easiest board to learn on—but it was mine.

My two friends and I started surfing Pyramid Rock on Marine Corps Base Hawaiʻi whenever we could.

We didn't know anything about wind direction, swell period, tides, or forecasts.

We simply drove to the beach and checked the waves.

Before smartphones and surf apps, we'd call 596-SURF to hear the surf report. If they said there were waves, we'd throw our boards in the car and head to the beach.

That was our surf forecast.

As time went on, we started figuring things out.

We noticed that the waves were usually cleaner early in the morning before the trades picked up. We discovered dawn patrol without anyone ever teaching us what dawn patrol was. We just realized the surfing seemed better before most people were awake.

Almost everything I learned came through trial and error.

I'd paddle for waves that I had no chance of catching.

I'd stand up too late.

I'd pearl the nose.

I'd get caught inside.

I'd get absolutely pounded.

Then I'd paddle back out and try to figure out what I had done wrong.

There were no YouTube videos.

No surf schools.

No slow-motion coaching.

No one filming me from the beach.

Just a couple of friends laughing, encouraging each other, and spending as much time in the water as we possibly could.

Little by little, things started to click.

I learned where to sit.

I learned that paddling was every bit as important as standing up.

I learned that reading the ocean was a skill that took years, not days.

Most importantly, I learned that surfing has a way of humbling you.

Just when you think you've figured it out, the ocean reminds you that you're still a student.

More than thirty years later, I still feel that way.

I'm still learning.

I'm still making mistakes.

I'm still coming in after a session thinking, I should have been sitting ten yards farther down the reef, or I should have waited for that set instead of forcing the wave before it.

I don't think that ever goes away.

Today, if someone wants to learn to surf, they have more resources than ever before.

You can watch world-class coaches on YouTube.

You can book a lesson online.

You can study forecasts on your phone before leaving the house.

Those are incredible tools, and I think beginners should absolutely use them.

But there's one thing no video, lesson, or app can ever replace.

Time in the water.

Surfing has always been learned one wave at a time.

One wipeout at a time.

One mistake at a time.

Looking back, I probably learned almost everything the hard way.

Honestly...

I wouldn't change a thing.

SSC Team