Dermot's "It's All Yours" article for May 9th 2005.

We Are Water...

“IT’S ALL YOURS”

I often wonder what continually draws me back to the ocean… to the waves.

Mostly it’s the opportunity to feel young, to remember what it was like to paddle out with friends…to laugh; and to marvel at the ever changing ocean.

The ocean is like a fingerprint.

No day at the beach is the same - just as no two fingerprints are alike.

I guess it’s the uniqueness of the ocean with its tranquil splendor interrupted by periods of chaos and violence that draws me. There is also the social lure - watching and intermingling with those, like me, who use the ocean as a playground and backdrop in their daily life. Sometimes people react well to the ocean and what it offers – at other time’s people become selfish and often stupid. Just occasionally a simple act of courtesy, in a world gone selfishly crazy, will renew my faith in why we surf and why we continue to surf. These occasional acts of “aloha spirit”, as rare as they have become, renew my faith in surfers and… draw me back into the water.

This event did take place. I was at my favorite spot many, many years ago on a windless, cloudless, morning - a morning where I walked to the waters edge and waited in total darkness for just a speck of light to paddle out by. I knew in advance the waves would be classic: super glassy, shoulder high, with the occasional head high set, no drift, with an incoming tide on a moderate tidal swing. It doesn’t - and can’t - get much better. Unfortunately, every other surfer in the city also knew the waves that morning were going to be epic. The coastline would be packed no matter where I went. My strategy was to get in early and stay until the crowds took away all the fun; then go home and savor the beauty of the morning...

I timed my paddle out perfectly. I’m outside and I barely got my hair wet. Other than the sound of the waves breaking, the only other noise I hear is my hand slicing the perfectly still water as I paddle. I stroke effortlessly in the sheet glass ocean. I paddle into my first wave, a wave that is barely visible in the early pre-dawn light. The only sound I hear is the smooth SWOOOSH as I turn from top to bottom. No slash and burn moves - just steady rail to rail movement. I surf by feel and instinct rather than by vision. I paddle back out and catch another wave in the half-light of what will be a spectacular dawn. The same sounds as before, the smooth SWOOOSH of board and water. I become enthralled with that sound. Rather than turn I simply glide on this wave and listen to the silence. I practically end up on the beach after my second wave. Again the calmness of the ocean and the time between sets make the paddle easy. As I reach the lineup outside a porpoise surfaces so smoothly he barely creates a ripple in the glassy water. Initially startled, I think that no matter what happens for the rest of the morning it won’t get any better than this. But it will.

By the time I finished watching the porpoise I realized I was no longer alone. I looked up and paddling out were two other surfers. I strain my eyes towards the beach and the path that leads to the water's edge. There in the dim light I see three more surfers walking down the path to the beach.

It was only five-thirty in the morning. I would catch a few more waves before I paddled away from the crowds. As I paddled back out, I saw a surfer make an effortless paddle and equally effortless drop into a perfect head high left-hander. After years of surfing and watching surfers I could instantly tell this guy was good – very good. With power and grace he carves the wave. Big carving turns frontside and backside. No arm flailing, no air, just big long power turns. He’d get so far out in front of the wave he’d cut back with his body torqued to the limit only to unwind as he hit the oncoming curl. He was talented and young. As much as I enjoyed surfing great waves like these I also enjoyed watching those who could surf exceptionally well in exceptional conditions. The show he put on was enjoyable. However the crowd was thickening and it was time to paddle away and try to find a solitary spot for a little while longer.

By six-fifteen there were thirty people in the water. I knew by seven there would be at least fifty. I’d probably be out of the water by seven-thirty. Regardless, it was a great morning. The conditions were perfect, I caught great waves, saw a porpoise up close, and watched some guy surf as well as I have ever seen anyone surf. I decided to paddle south. I knew at this break that with the incoming tide the swell would begin to break a little better further south. I just had to get lucky enough and catch the first few peaks that would break further south before the crowd followed me. I paddled south and waited.

I had not been paying attention but the guy who had been surfing so spectacularly had also paddled south. I thought, “oh well, maybe a scrap or two might come my way. If it does I’ll just take it in – no big deal.”

I paddled to within a yard or two of him and said good morning. He responded and we exchanged a few quick and simple pleasantries. I was to his immediate left and down line from where the peak would hit. He was there first and had position for the lefts. For the most part the waves were coming in sets of three. In that he had position - he had his pick for the better wave of the set; I’d take what he didn’t.

I turned back to glance at the mob now some 30 yards to my north. I was glad I paddled away from the mob but also somewhat frustrated in that I now ended up sitting next to the best surfer on the beach and to his inside and out of position. I thought, “well I hope a decent scrap comes through, it’ll be my ticket in.”

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed this good surfer had begun to paddle further outside. I could see why. A set, at least head high, was headed right for us. Or rather, right for him. He’d be all over it. I paddled out the extra ten yards and ended up sitting pretty close to this guy. Even at a distance, and much to my chagrin, I could tell it was a two-wave set. Maybe the next set.

Maybe the next set had my name on it – just maybe.

As the set approached I could tell it was a one wave set. The first wave wasn’t big enough to break where we were. But the second wave was the wave of the day. A perfect left hander, overhead, with nothing but shoulder after the initial drop. I sat there facing the wave when I looked to my left expecting the surfer to adjust his position a little. He didn’t have to. The peak was approaching exactly where he was sitting. Another five seconds or so and the wave will be his.

Out of nowhere and very nonchalantly he turns to me and says “Nice wave, have fun, its all yours!”

I was in shock and I’m sure I had that shocked look about me because he said very quickly “Go.”

I turned and stroked into the wave of the day. I wish I could say I tore it up but I didn’t. It was a spectacular left and I was thankful to just make the drop and initial bottom turn, after that everything else was gravy. However, the perfection of the wave allowed me to appear to be a better surfer than I actually was. I would have gone in with that wave but I had to find out why the best surfer on the beach gave me the wave of the day.

I made my way back outside, paddled back through the mob and over to the guy who gave me the wave. As I get next to him he asks if it was a good wave and if I had fun. I told him it was a blast and it was the best wave I’ve had in a long, long time. I then commenced to thank him profusely. I also asked him why he gave me that wave as he was clearly in position and it was his from the start. I even laughingly joked about what a bad time to be taking a pee!

I was in my late 30’s when this took place and this young man was probably in his middle to late 20’s. He looks at me with a sense of deep-seated wisdom and “aloha” spirit and to this day I remember what he said… “No, nothing like that, it’s just important to give a wave – we take so much out here in the water it’s important to give some back.” I didn’t know what to say - what could I say? I began to mutter something but what ever I would say couldn’t match his act or words. It was one of those awkward moments. Thankfully, another set came through which precluded me from mumbling something stupid. The set wave was good but not like the one he gave me. He took off on the set wave to the hoots and hollers of the mob as they had now paddled closer to where we were and could see this guy in action.

I took the smallest and last wave of the set and went in. It was a perfect day. Despite my earlier feelings that the morning could not possibly get any better - it did. I not only had the opportunity to surf great waves but also meet a superb surfer - a surfer in every sense of the word.

So, as hard as it may be, particularly in the crowded dog-eat-dog world we live and surf in, when your sitting in the perfect position and that peak set comes through turn to that person on your right or left and say…”nice wave, have fun, it’s all yours.”

You’ll be a better person for it. You’ll brighten the day of some surfer and restore his or her faith that the true spirit of surfing is still alive. Your actions will bring that person back out into the ocean again and restore their faith.

*Dermot Swell Memories Home Index

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