I usually don’t look forward to the transition from August
to September as, for me, it symbolically marks an end to summer, but
this summer was different. Having talked my brother and his girlfriend,
into accompanying me to a Sept. 1 surfing lesson, I anxiously awaited
my chance to test the waves in Maine.

When the day finally arrived, the three of us headed into the surf
shop, where we were introduced to our instructor and the full body
wetsuits that would keep us warm for the next two hours. After suiting
up, we made our way across the crowded beach, toward a cluster of blue
surfboards propped up against the retaining wall.

Laying the boards down on the sand, our instructor said we would first
practice our pop-ups on land. With our feet flexed, we practiced
popping up from a paddling position on our stomachs to a standing
position. While my brother and his girlfriend both easily popped up,
assuming the correct stance with one foot pointed out in front of the
other, my own pop-ups resembled a game of leap frog as I couldn’t
figure out how to stagger my feet. Scratching his head and searching
for a better way to explain the move, he said, “You’ll get it,” as we
picked up the boards and headed for the waves.

The three of us belly flopped onto our boards and paddled behind our
instructor. There were group lessons on either side of us and the
instructors remarked, for Maine, the waves were pretty impressive that
morning. It was an ideal day for surfing.

We circled around our instructor, with our backs to the oncoming waves
and waited as he scanned the water’s surface, watching the formation of
the waves. When it was my turn, I waited with butterflies in my stomach
to hear the words, “Paddle hard” and then I began pushing my arms as
fast as I could. Right before the wave lifted the board, the instructor
gave it a push and yelled, “Ready, stand up!” As the wave took the
board, I popped up slowly into my leapfrog position and quickly fell
over backwards (or was it sideward?) into the water.

Eager to try again, I struggled to gain control of my unwieldy board
and make my way back to the others. My brother and his girlfriend took
their turns and as I suspected they were much more steady on their
boards than I had been. With each turn, they got better and better. An
experienced snowboarder and an all around good athlete, my brother’s
girlfriend was a natural. She made it look so easy. She could have been
balancing her checkbook as she rode the waves toward the shore.

With some advice from my instructor, I learned the trick was to stop
thinking about standing up and just do it. When I managed to get my
feet in the right position and stand upright, I couldn’t help but let
out a cry of joy as I rode my first wave. Afterwards, meeting the eyes
of people standing on the shore, I felt only slightly embarrassed.

Although I was starting to lose feeling in my arms from paddling and
pushing myself up from the board, I was hooked. We spent the whole
two-hour lesson in the water, refusing to take a break.

Throughout the lesson, I managed to stand up on the board four or five
times. My brother and his girlfriend, old pros, learned how to make the
board turn and how to ride across the waves, but I was having a ball
just heading straight into shore.

As I had feared it would, my own board did pop out of the water and hit
me on the head at one point, but I just shrugged it off. During another
comical moment, I was hanging out on my board, watching as the
instructor set my brother up for a wave, when I saw a strange look come
over his face.

Apparently a huge wave, with the potential to throw me off my board,
was coming up behind me. My flustered instructor couldn’t decide if I
should bail out or hold on tight, but I was completely oblivious as the
wave lifted my board and set me back down again.

At the end of the lesson, we dragged our boards to shore with the arm
strength we had left and turned over our wetsuits. We walked across the
beach, stoked to try surfing again.

–Amanda Estes