Friday, March 18, 2011

I can’t remember the last time I was on a surfboard....

Words: Johnny Knapp

I can’t remember the last time I was on a surfboard. There have been waves, but none of my boards have left the corner in which they lean. Spiders have even taken to weaving a web that utilizes their dormant position.

My friends admitted that they are starting to worry about my absence from surfing. Because for some time now all I go to the beach with is a pair of swim fins and a piece of wood.

It all started when I tried a handplane,as they’re called, that belonged to a friend. I was always curious about them but never really gave it too much thought. I didn’t think it could be that different than the regular whopping of body surfing the shore break. Contrary to what I thought, I soon experienced a ride unique to anything I had experienced before. As vivid as my first ride was on a stand up surfboard, my first body surfing encounter with such a tool is equally ingrained. As the wave rose out of the ocean and across the sand bar, I managed to kick into it and glide across the face as one would on a board, in proper position the whole ride. Riding in the curl, the critical sections of the wave, never straying too far ahead.

Since that moment, I have dedicated myself to what I like to refer to as having intercourse with the ocean. There is a certain sensation that comes from skimming across the surface of the ocean with the water rushing across your body. The buffer of the surfboard as been removed. The ocean and your body are parallel to one another, becoming one during the act. There is a transfer of energy between the two, both feeding off one another. Through this developed energy, pleasure is received. The body’s sensory mechanisms are overloaded by what is happening in that brief and intense moment of the ride. Jolted, thrusted, and twisted into parts of the wave not seen or ridden by boards, it takes a special medium such as the body to get there.

The whole key to the gig is to have the eyes wide open during the whole ride. Even until the moment when the lip dumps upon you, the eyes must be open–alert to what is going on all around. It’s about the view. The lip is projected in the form of an aquatic cathedral with the curtain closing in, shimmering with light from the outside world. Droplets of water, though moving fast, appear to be in slow motion as time decelerates: an intimate moment with nature veiled under the cover of the lip. The ride climaxes with a tumble down to the ocean floor, bouncing up and gasping for air, wide-eyed and alive.

For now I’ve seem to have lost all desire to do a turn. Slashing and gashing the water seems like such rude thing to do to so a beautiful lady. Today I’d rather lie down and make love to her, face to face, touching one another in the glory of the moment.

All from the beautiful online surf magazine.. ... all rights are theirs.

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