ADVANTAGE, SURFERS: LIFE IN A PANDEMIC IS AS UNPREDICTABLE AS OCEAN WAVES
For many, the hardest part these days is the unknown. Over the past 19 months, we have gone into lockdown, masked, socially distanced, met over Zoom instead of coffee, missed community and lost loved ones. We’ve been vaccinated (most of us) — and now, after the briefest of celebratory summers, the Delta variant has forced us to take a step back, leaving us again in limbo. The question on our collective conscience is when will things get back to a semblance of “normal.” When can we go back to late June 2021, when weddings were unmasked, restaurants were filling up, hotels were booked and the air was filled with hopeful anticipation? Vaccines provide protection from the virus, but they can’t inoculate us from the challenges that come with the uncertainty. At present, we are drifting at sea without an end point in sight, not knowing when the tide will shift in our favor.
Fortunately for us surfers, this wave of unpredictability is something to which we are uniquely accustomed.
Unlike other events and activities, surfing is anything but predictable — it is a sport that depends almost entirely on Mother Nature. The tides may be told far into the future, but the wind and the waves are in constant flux and can be predicted only a week or two out, at most.
This lack of predictability is one of the beautiful aspects that draws me to surfing, and has subsequently changed the rhythms of my life. To surf is to submit to the fickle nature of the elements — to organize the calendar not by the hour, day or week, but by the tides, winds and waves. Surfers must be adaptable, bending their schedule to accommodate the changing conditions hoping they might align, for a brief moment, to ride a swell from sea to shore.
As any surfer will tell you, there are many days when the elements do not align. Maybe the waves are there, but the wind is howling onshore. Perhaps the wind and waves cooperate, but the high tide prevents the waves from breaking. Surfing cultivates patience and faith, a gaze continually set to the horizon in hopeful anticipation. Some days we paddle out to wind-blown, choppy closeouts, just to satisfy the deeper desire to spend time immersed in the ocean, waves or none.
The proliferation of surf cams has made it easier to monitor the conditions, but things can still shift by the time one arrives at the beach. Many local breaks do not have a live-stream camera. I can read the swell report, check the weather and wind, but in the end, I won’t know if there are waves to be ridden until I drive 40 minutes from my home, walk onto the beach and look out at the great Pacific Ocean. By then, I’m committed.
The physical act of surfing similarly defies predictability. No one wave is the same, even at the most consistent breaks. Riding a swell, the surfer must adapt to the dynamic nature of each moment on the wave, rebalancing weight, shifting feet, leaning forward, flexing knees, ankles and torso — carving his or her line like an artist on a blank yet ever-changing canvas. Sometimes the ride lasts for only a second. With luck, the wave can extend for much more, peeling down the line while the surfer stays just ahead of the breaking whitewash, allowing for continual creativity and expression where board meets water.
This inherent adaptability, this practice in balancing life commitments around unpredictable factors, is perhaps why the surfers I know dealt with the disruption and unpredictability of COVID-19 better than most. A willingness to accept what nature provides and adapt to changing conditions is ingrained in who we are. Even when there are no waves, there is always another day and another season on the horizon.
As we look ahead to winter, there are still many unknowns while we continue to battle the virus. We don’t know if caseloads will rise or fall, when office workers will return in full, if booster shots will be required for everyone, when travel will feel a bit less precarious, or when our kids can go to school without masks. We can, however, work on becoming more adaptable. We can take what nature provides and make the most of it. For us surfers, we can grab our boards and paddle out each morning, ready to ride whatever waves may come.
To surf is to submit to the fickle nature of the elements — to organize the calendar not by the hour, day or week, but by the tides, winds and waves.