Solo Saltfest, Trying a Turn and Mr Seal

P—-s. Rolled up at 4 right after work and there wasn’t a soul parked. The ride north had looked flat as hell, with some promising undulations, like the ocean was clearing her throat. I hopped out and took a look. A bit of texture and hardly a moment between most of the waves but I thought there might be something surfable and I saw potential, saw a few lines that made me wonder and it was on. And that’s the thing. You’re not just looking for the active waves. You’re looking for the potential. I’m always hopeful it will clean up. Not always. But 99.99% of the time.

I grabbed my board and hopped in. I was a hot mess and just positioned poorly for the first thirty minutes or so but it started to clean up and I started sorting out where the waves were rolling through.

I needed this session. I’d been so buzzy the last few weeks, my heart has really been hurting with some personal stuff, and this week just felt like I couldn’t get quiet. I was completely alone out there, except for Mr. Seal. Every now and then he popped his head up, and he checked on me throughout the sesh, over two and half hours, just looking at me curiously with his big black eyes.

This session was magical.

“You’re not just looking for the active waves. You’re looking for the potential.”

Between really turning over Timmy’s advice to paddle like you’re being chased, hold nothing back and having listened to Ian Walsh’s podcast on Finding Mastery—along with really making The Commitment to surfing—I just approached almost every wave differently today, approached the whole sesh. I held nothing back. I chased the waves, chased the peak and went for drops I normally wouldn’t. I held back on two waves and my heart felt scorched. None of that! I thought to myself, and hoped hoped hoped I’d get another chance on a wave like those two.

Some amazing things did happen. First, I finally started to try to turn early, to wedge into the top of the wave, and ride it high, rather than immediately doing a bottom turn, which often cuts my time on the wave and lets go of some of my control. That was working. And I was really struggling with these rights that had steep faces—was just eating shit—and finally got one at the end. It was “The Wave” of the day, no doubt, and the ocean sent it right to me. Plus, this was really the first time where I started actually trying to do a turn. I pumped, stood with my feet a little closer like I’ve been trying on the skateboard and just kind of tried to get a little vibe-y.

I didn’t want to leave. The sky was turning orange, the water was reflecting pink, I could see the Isle of Shoals off in the distance.

I took my nose to my thigh and rode a few more just to not end on that note.

I pushed it until 6:30 and finally popped out. My feet were numb but my heart was on fire.

I’ve accepted that I’m always going to look like a spaz when I’m surfing and I’m ok with it. I really couldn’t be happier in this moment I took this shot. (C) Sara Dyer