Swell, page 17
I licked the pencil again and pressed gently on the foam that felt as soft as butter icing against the nib. Lucky 13, I wrote in honour of the thirteenth world title dream.
‘Nice work,’ said Jason over my shoulder.
I looked up at him and he smiled.
‘I better make sure it comes true then.’
‘Absolutely. Anything I can do to help just let me know.’
He touched my shoulder.
‘You’ve already done more than you’ll ever know.’
When I looked at Seb his brow was wrinkled in an expression of surprise.
Jason shook hands with his shaper and then pulled him into a hug.
‘Thanks for all your work, man and thanks for the boards for the programme. I’ve borrowed one for Bailey too.’
‘Always a pleasure to help, Jason now you just take care of yourself and if you have any bright ideas you let me know any time of the day or night.’
‘Excuse me but why do I need a surfboard?’ I asked with a frown.
Jason clapped his hands together.
‘It’s time.’
‘Time for what.’
‘Time to get you wet.’
Both men laughed when I flushed red.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Time for you to go surfing,’ said Jason. ‘I think it is about time you finally experienced first hand what this is all about.’
I smoothed my hands over my hair and glanced from Jason to Seb. They were beaming like a pair of manic cats.
‘But I’ve learned everything I need to know for the book.’
Seb shook his head.
‘You can only learn so much by reading and watching. As the saying goes, only a surfer knows the feeling.’
‘And here I was thinking I liked you,’ I scowled.
Jason wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me towards the exit. Seb followed.
‘Come on, Bailey, no more excuses.’
‘I don’t need excuses. I can simply think of a million things I would rather be doing than squeezing myself into a skin-tight neoprene suit and hurling myself into a raging ocean. Eating my own hands would be one of them.’
Seb chuckled.
‘You’ll love it, you’ll see. Let me know how you go.’
‘You will, you’ll love it,’ said Jason when he opened the door of the SUV for me. The back was stacked high with rounded nosed surfboards.
‘Will everyone stop telling me I will love it. I won’t love it because I am not doing it. I told you I will stick to the writing and you stick to the surfing.’
We waved goodbye to the staff and Jason drove out of the parking lot.
‘Bailey, you can’t write about surfing if you’ve never tried it.’
‘Believe me, Jason, I can. People write about serial killers and they don’t go out on a strangulation binge just to know’ – I made quotation marks with my fingers – ‘the feeling.’
Jason threw his head back and laughed.
‘It’s hardly the same thing, Bailey.’
‘It is,’ I huffed, ‘almost. It could quite easily involve death. The only difference being I will be the one who dies.’
I pulled down the visor mirror and applied a coat of lip-gloss.
‘Whose benefit is that for, the dolphins?’
I pursed my lips.
‘I am not going surfing, Jason.’
‘Yes you are.’
‘No I am not.’
‘Yes you are.’
‘I don’t want to. I can’t do it.’
Jason clicked his tongue.
‘Now we’re getting somewhere. I can’t is something different from I won’t.’
‘Is it?’
He turned to me and arched one eyebrow.
‘I can’t means you’re simply scared and that we can work with. I will show you some people who will make you never say “I can’t” again.’
‘I don’t believe that’s possible but go ahead. Knock yourself out.’
‘I will,’ Jason grinned, ‘and if it doesn’t work for any reason then you still have to go surfing or else you’re fired.’
‘That’s cheating.’
We glanced at each other and shared a smile.
‘O.K.,’ I said, ‘we’ll see if you can convince me once I’ve met these people you’re talking about but I very much doubt it.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The well-built boy with waves of blond hair down to his bony shoulders had been accidentally shot in the eye by an air rifle fired by his best friend when they were both seven years old. The same age as Zac. He, Ben, was now thirteen and almost completely blind.
‘I see clouds, Ma’am,’ Ben said with a faint smile on his disconcertingly serene face, ‘that’s all I see.’
Ben’s friend, also thirteen, was a Mexican girl called Izel who had lost both parents and both legs below the knee in a devastating car accident. She sat on the sand with one hand firmly clasped around Ben’s and looked up at me with a smile as bright as the sun’s rays on an exquisite summer’s morning.
‘I’m his eyes and he’s my legs,’ Izel said matter-of-factly, the words tripping off her tongue with a singsong Central American accent. ‘I like your sandals Ma’am.’
They were pretty sandals. White leather dotted with tiny blue crystals; this season’s must have at Poseidon. Sandals that this little girl had no use for. I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Jason was engrossed in a conversation with a young man in his twenties who was paralysed from the chest down and was in a wheelchair specially adapted for the sand. He had a face and body like a youthful Steve McQueen and he was dressed in a clean white vest and red board shorts. He looked every part the surfer other than the fact his arms and legs refused to move.
‘Hey, B, stoked you agreed to come surfing, dude.’
Chuck bounded across the sand towards me, waving his long arms like an enthusiastic octopus. In contrast to his usual eclectic mix of fashions, Chuck was dressed only in a pair of black and white board shorts with a tessellated diamond design. The shorts were pulled in tight at the waist but were having trouble staying up on a body the shape of a pencil. His vibrant hair was covered with a big brimmed trucker cap emblazoned with the words Live To Surf, Surf To Live. Seeing Chuck somehow always made me smile, even today.
‘I did not exactly agree but I’m here at least,’ I said with a grimace.
‘Cool. Come meet Wyatt, he’s a blast.’
Wyatt was the handsome young man in the wheelchair. He had been one of the west coast’s most promising young surfers and had just signed a lucrative contract with Poseidon when he fell victim to a freak accident. While free surfing a hollow shore break wave with his girlfriend who was also a sponsored surfer, Wyatt crashed headlong into his fate.
‘It was a small day but the wave was smashing down onto the sand,’ he told me, recounting the story I was sure he had told many times, perhaps wishing he could rewrite the ending. ‘I pulled into this tube that was super fast and I remember seeing daylight. I thought I could make it out but the barrel shut down, flipped me over and smashed my head into the sand. I heard a click and that was it. So easy, so fast, so dumb but so final. But hey there’s nothing I can do to change it. I was an instant quadriplegic so like I couldn’t even swim to shore. Get this, my chick had to save me. How bad is that for a guy’s ego? Dragged me out of the shorey and called the lifeguards but it was too late.’
I bit my lip.
‘Gosh, how awful, Wyatt. I don’t know what to say.’
He smiled a crooked, cheeky smile.
‘What is there to say? Not much. Wish I hadn’t taken that goddamn wave, wish I’d pushed through the back of the barrel. I’ve said it all like a zillion times but it’s bullshit. If I was there tomorrow I’d still go for that wave, the barrel was sweet.’ He smiled indulgently at the memory of the tube ride then blinked slowly and repetitively to bring himself back from the moment. ‘Right, enough of the cry baby shit, shall we surf?’
‘Let’s do it,’ said Jason.
‘How?’
I looked from the boards lying in the sand on the deserted beach like a deck of cards fanned out on a table, to the ocean stretching out before us.
‘How are these kids going to surf?’ I whispered to Jason.
‘Just watch,’ he smiled, ‘this is something we do often. Then you can join in.’
My heart beat faster.
‘A word of advice, Jason, tales of paralysis by surfing are not motivational for complete beginners,’ I whispered again.
Jason screwed up his face.
‘I guess you’re right but’ – he waved his hand dismissively – ‘don’t worry about it, Bailey, you will be sweet I promise. After all, you’ve got the best teacher in the world.’
I looked over each shoulder.
‘Where?’
‘Ha,’ Chuck laughed, ‘you better live up to your own hype, dude. If she breaks her neck now it is like totally your fault. She’ll sue for everything you’ve got.’
‘Thank you, Chuck,’ I groaned, ‘now run along and play with the sharks.’
Ben, who was well built for his age, carried Izel into the water while she called out constant instructions about the approaching waves and currents. Izel gripped the bodyboard tightly with one hand and paddled with the other arm, while kicking what little was left of her legs. The determination that she would catch more waves than the boys was apparent in her coffee-coloured eyes. Jason took Ben’s board out to him and Izel counted aloud the gap between the waves in each set so that Ben would be able to predict when one was about to hit. Izel also called out whether the wave was a right or left hander so that Ben would know which way to turn his board once he had eventually caught it.
‘Steep take off,’ she directed. ‘That one’s a close out. Leave it, leave it. Go for this, Ben, go!’
Izel always stayed close, warning Ben of obstacles and unseen dangers and soon the two of them were paddling around like a pair of playful turtles.
‘My balance is off today,’ Ben tutted when he fell off a wave half way along it.
He wanted to be perfect and showed no fear. Taking on the ocean was bad enough when one could see the waves approaching but surfing it blind was, in my opinion, nothing short of petrifying.
Jason and Chuck concentrated on Wyatt who needed to be carried into the water. They positioned him gently on a ten-foot orange longboard resembling a baguette that had been sliced in half and smothered with marmalade. It looked beautiful but Wyatt was unimpressed.
‘It’s a kook’s board and a hell of a lot different to the ones I used to ride but I guess this body isn’t built for skinny contest boards like Jason’s anymore.’
Jason ruffled his hair and turned Wyatt to face the horizon. The waves were rolling consistently onto the beach as gentle as ripples on a windy puddle but still the thought of being out of my depth made me shiver. While keeping a watchful eye on Izel and Ben who were shrieking delightedly at every wave and wipe out, Jason manoeuvred Wyatt into position and pushed him into the best wave of each set. Wyatt lay flat on the board with his head lifted and whooped as he flew along the waves with the speed of a missile. When he reached the beach Chuck was there to catch him and push him back out to Jason.
‘Be careful,’ I warned when he rolled off and landed in a heap on the sand at my feet.
‘Why?’ he replied, hooting with laughter. ‘It’s not like I have to worry about breaking my neck is it?’
I sat beside the board Jason had borrowed for me, buried my bare feet into the warm sand and watched with fascination as Wyatt, Ben and Izel’s grins grew wider by the second. They looked so free and blissfully happy that I swung between laughing out loud and welling up with tears.
‘Come on, Ma’am, come join us,’ Ben called out.
He couldn’t see me but he could obviously smell a scaredy cat landlubber at twenty paces.
‘Yes, Ma’am don’t be scared,’ said Izel.
‘Scared? I’m not scared, I’m just…’
They all looked at me and chuckled amongst themselves.
‘I’m just not sure I’m altogether waterproof.’
I walked uneasily into the waves, gripping the board at my side and squeaking with discomfort as the water crept up to my waist chilling each vertebra one by one. Izel whizzed past me on her bodyboard, wiggling her body and laughing uncontrollably. Ben was on the next wave, standing tall and proud. Next came Wyatt, carried towards the beach on a magic carpet of white water. I put my head down and kept wading ever deeper while coaching myself to show no fear.
‘Ready?’ asked Jason.
‘As I’ll ever be. I can’t believe I am actually doing this’
He tapped the deck of the board and I pulled myself up onto my belly. Jason grasped the rails of the board.
‘I can and I’m proud of you. Now hold on.’
Before I had time to ask for instructions, Jason pushed the tail end of the board when the wave rushed up behind me. I felt myself being picked up by the force of the ocean and catapulted towards the beach as fast as if I were careering down an icy mountain on a toboggan. I had control of neither my speed nor my trajectory and my fingertips burrowed into the rails of the board for dear life.
‘Where are the brakes?’ I shrieked.
‘Jump up!’ I heard the group cry in unison when I finally emerged from the agitated ball of foam that had enveloped my ears and found myself on a relatively smooth wave.
‘Jump, Bailey,’ Jason and Chuck hooted.
My laboured motion would not have been classified as a ‘jump’ in any language but before I knew what I was doing, my body was clambering into an upright position, like the progressive illustration of Neanderthal man to the Homo Sapien. My eyes were transfixed on the deck of the board, marvelling at the two feet firmly planted across the wooden stringer that looked very much like my own. Blue Chanel nail varnish and a small mole on my right little toe. They were indeed my feet and they were holding firm.
My support crew cheered, my fingers released their iron grip, my body unravelled and the wave carried me aloft on the shoulders of very gentle white horses – white ponies perhaps - that tended towards a courteous trot rather than an angry gallop. I breathed in the salty mist settling above the waves. My lungs filled with the comforting scent of the ocean and the fresh, clean air pumped through every muscle in my body. I lifted my eyes towards the beach to where Chuck was bouncing up and down punching the sky. My arms unwittingly did the same and the wind whistled past my ears, blowing every cobweb away to the horizon. I was standing. I was standing on a moving surfboard on a wave on the ocean. I was really doing it. I was surfing.
I was hooked.
I caught so many waves I lost count before the sun plunged into the sea and spread across the surface like an egg being cracked into a hot frying pan. I had never felt so exhausted yet I laughed more than I had laughed in months. Any worries that had clouded my mind vanished in a flash and were washed away in a whirlpool, leaving me feeling free and nothing short of ecstatic.
It was true what they said; only a surfer knows the feeling.
Just before the blanket of darkness fell and as the tide came in, Jason lay on top of Wyatt’s legs and paddled the two of them further out to sea where there were bigger waves forming. Izel described the whole scene to Ben in detail even counting Jason’s paddle strokes. In the distance we could just make out Jason paddling Wyatt into the wave of the day. Their facial expressions were indistinguishable but their chorus of laughter and cheers carried towards us on the late onshore breeze was enough to let us know Wyatt was in his element.
‘You were incredible!’ I shrieked, kissing Wyatt’s dripping wet cheek when he returned to shore in the arms of Jason and Chuck.
‘I am aren’t I?’ he winked.
‘Hey, Bro, she’s too old for you,’ Jason sniggered.
‘Well thanks very much, I’m not that old.’
‘Surfing keeps you young and fit,’ said Wyatt, ‘stick with us and you’ll be young enough for me soon.’
I smiled down at his angelic face and my heart melted. I tried to push the ball of tears down into my throat by swallowing hard but it welled up like a burst water main. The mixture of exhaustion and emotion was too much to contain and a heavy tear dripped down my face, running through the fine layer of salt that had encrusted on my cheek. I blinked and tried to turn away but Ben reached out and touched my arm. He sensed I was crying.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,’ I sniffed.
‘We have that effect,’ Izel shrugged unperturbed.
‘Don’t feel sorry for us, Ma’am,’ Ben said softly. ‘Sure I still see clouds but today the clouds are bright. Today life is swell.’
‘Sure is,’ Wyatt beamed, ‘and we’re stoked you shared it with us.’
‘I’m stoked too,’ I replied, ‘thank you for showing me what surfing is all about.’
When I said surfing, what I really meant was living.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The following morning I came down to breakfast puffy-eyed but gleeful in the knowledge I had written some of my best work for years. Energised by the experience of surfing with Wyatt, Izel and Ben and inspired by seeing Jason give his time freely to such a worthy cause, I had stayed awake until four in the morning typing like a woman possessed. Still buzzing from the consumption of far too much coffee in the early hours, I bounced into the breakfast room and up to the table where Oli had joined Jason, Chuck, Rory and Ruby.
The waitresses were wiggling around Jason like worms after a rainfall on freshly dug soil. Jason’s glass was full, I noticed, while the others contained nothing but the sticky remnants of orange pith.
‘Morning everybody.’
‘G’day, surfer girl,’ Rory and Ruby chirped yet despite their friendly smiles I sensed the mood was sombre.
I took a seat between Chuck and Ruby.
‘What’s happened?’
‘Earthquake,’ said Ruby, while Oli growled - ‘Tsunami’.
Jason shook his head.
‘It’s terrible.’
Chuck, in his usual avalanche of words exclaimed - ‘The motherfuckin’ ocean has almost sunk the Maldives, dude, it’s bad, you know what I’m sayin’?’
