I was about halfway into my first 90 minute surfing lesson when the hangover hit. There I was, floating on the waves, under the warm Costa Rican sun, bobbing lazily in what most people would consider a tropical heaven, and my head was pounding like a 2 year old with a new drum set. I was paying less attention to the timing of the waves and more attention to wondering whether I could throw up in the water without anyone noticing. It also occurred to me that smart surfers didn’t surf drunk and good surfers wouldn’t surf hungover. Since I was neither smart nor good, I was both drunk and hungover. Pretty impressive, since I’d only been in country for less than 4 hours. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Around 4 o’clock on Wednesday, my buddy Al and I went to the board cage at the Witch’s Rock Surf Camp, where we met our instructor, Josimar. We would be his only two students for the class for the next few days. We told him about our surfing experience (roughly none) and he got two foam boards for us, each about 8 feet in length. Longer boards are easier to manage and control, and the foam covering means that it won’t hurt as much when we hit ourselves or each other in the head. This latter point became very relevant over the next few days. Josimar spent about 10 minutes with us on the beach, explaining how to stand up and maintain our balance, where to look, where not to look, etc. Then we hit the waves. At this point, Al and I were each about 7 or 8 beers deep in about 4 hours. We were still walking straight and speaking English, but we were definitely feeling no pain. That’s a nice bonus when you get hit in the head with a board, foam or not.
The water was warm enough that there was no cold water shock when you walked in. The water was very comfortable every day that we were there, which was great, although colder water might have encouraged me to stand up on the board more. When we got out to where the waves were forming, Josimar would tell one of us to start paddling towards the beach and then he’d give us a push to get our speed up. Then he’d do the same for the other guy. The theory was that his push would get us moving at the same speed as the wave, and that would help us get up on the board. It was a good theory, but the drunken execution was seriously lacking. I used to be a swimmer in high school, but apparently 20 years and 70 pounds later, those muscles have long since atrophied. Paddling back out to the waves was the most exhausting thing that I’ve done in a long time. If the board hadn’t been under me keeping me afloat, I probably would have drowned and floated out to sea. During that first lesson, I managed to stand up for a few seconds 2 or 3 times, which I was pleased with. I wasn’t turning and carving the tunnel (that’s a thing, right?) like the pros do, but I still managed to stand up.
The lesson on Thursday afternoon was more of the same, with slightly better results. Al and I had done a little surfing on our own on earlier that day, with some success, but it really tired us out for the afternoon lesson. Friday and Saturday, we switched to regular boards of roughly the same length. I actually found those boards to be a little easier to use, perhaps because my skills were improving, perhaps because the wax on the board was chafing my nipples, so I wanted to get up as quickly as I could. I managed to turn a little on one wave, but that was because there was a small child in the water in front of me and I had no interest in going to a Costa Rican prison for manslaughter. All in all, Josimar was a good instructor, but beyond the little bit he told us on the first class, he didn’t provide much instruction. The extra pushes helped a lot. The problem was that he was behind each wave when we caught it, so he couldn’t see what we were doing right or wrong; all he could see was whether we were able to stand up or not. If so, he’d shoot us a shaka and yell, “Good wave!” If he didn’t see our heads, he’d make up some crap as to what we did wrong. Our foot was pointed forward, we were looking down, etc. I guess he felt the need to say something after each run, but at least he was pretending to be involved. Regardless of his skill as an instructor, by Saturday I was catching almost every wave to some degree or another, which I’m happy with.
Tamarindo is known for surfing, not only for the novice surfers, but also for the pros. One of the guys who I talked to had spent the morning surfing with Wingnut, the star of the movie The Endless Summer 2. All around Tamarindo are various beaches and coves where the waves break, so you’ll never get bored of riding the same water. Regardless of your skill level, Tamarindo has waves for you.
