Adam Learns to Surf

This is an account of an evening early in my second season of kayaking, when I was still learning the basics.

I don’t think “apprehensive” is the word I would use to describe how I felt as we launched our kayaks into the Hudson last night. I hadn’t been in a kayak since I’d wrenched my back a week ago, so I was feeling kind of weak and still a little stiff from the injury. I knew the current was going out at about two knots and not due to change direction for a while, so I’d be fighting a relatively strong current. But apprehensive, no.

I suppose the British have the best expression to describe it: bloody minded. I didn’t care what the conditions were, I didn’t care how my body would react. I just needed to get out on the river.

It was just me and Randy, the owner of the kayak company. We decided to head upstream, against the current, and see how it felt.

There was a decent and steady breeze, Randy estimated about 10MPH. This was good for two reasons: it was at our back which helped move us forward. Also, it created some small waves in the water. I would learn the value of these waves soon enough.

At first I was just fighting my way against the current. My forward stroke is much stronger than at the beginning of the season, but it was still hard work. After a while we pulled into an embayment and Randy gave me some advice. He told me how to catch on to a wave and, even though the current was headed against me, I could use it to propel myself forward.

I tried this for a while, keeping an eye on the bow (front) of my boat to see where the water was. I’d get little bursts of speed, but couldn’t sustain it. Then I decided to stop watching and start feeling. I pointed my eyes up at the skyline and waited until I felt the bow dropping, then I dug in and started to paddle quick, efficient strokes. And I was flying forward, riding the wave, almost effortlessly.

I’m reaching the point in my kayaking where it gets harder and harder to find words to describe the sensation. How do you describe the feeling of riding on a wave, being pushed forward by your hips, the rest of your body coming along for the ride? How can you convey the sense of riding on water as if it were some smooth-as-glass beast? The exhilaration, but at the same time the at-oneness with the water. It couldn’t have been too long before the wave got away from me, but it was one of those extended moments that felt like forever.

After that I would grab a wave for a short burst, then lose it again. Some more advice from Randy: ride the wave, but when it gets away from you, catch your breath and adjust your heading while you wait for the next one.

We’d gone a couple miles when we pulled into an embayment to catch our breath and grab a few drinks of Gatorade.

Heading back wasn’t the conveyor belt ride I’d been anticipating. The current had slacked a bit and the wind was still blowing north, now against us. The waves were of little help now, either, as they were short and coming at us quickly.

Still, although the waves gave me little forward boost, they did lend some excitement. My bow would climb up, then slap down once I’d crest the wave, then slice through the next wall of water, my bow momentarily almost submerged. It was exhilarating. I was throwing that boat around the water. Sure, I was probably muscling it more than I needed to. I’m sure someday I will use more finesse and expend less energy. But it felt great, so in control and yet in partnership with the water.

I was working on my edging a little; that’s when you use your body to tilt the boat to the side while keeping your center of gravity over the boat. This causes the boat to turn while not flipping over. I was edging pretty well when I got caught broadside by some wake. I started to flip, but caught myself with a low brace, a slap to the water with my paddle blade, and brought myself back upright. At my skill level, it’s the small things that make you feel like a champ.

We had been making pretty good time in both directions, so it was only 7:30 when we returned. Plenty of time to take out the stand-up paddleboards. These are basically really wide surfboards that you stand upright on and paddle with an extremely long paddle. It’s a crazy feeling to be standing upright on the water. And while balance can be tricky, it doesn’t take long to really get comfortable. I didn’t fall in once the whole evening.

Finally, as the giant, orange globe of the sun set over New Jersey, we brought in the boards and called it a day. It was mostly dark as I left the kayak company, the skyline lit and the air cooling. Amazing how much less strong the breeze feels when your feet are planted on the ground.

It had been a rough week, a rough couple of weeks, steeped in angst and unhappiness. But I walked away refreshed and cleansed, as always, by the water of the Hudson.