El Tunco – Day 1: The Pulse of the Pacific
EL TUNCO
Day 1: The Pulse of the Pacific
October 29, 2022
My next destination was El Tunco, a beach town on the Pacific Coast. Aptly known as Surf City, this place draws thousands of tourists every year to try their hand at surfing – or, for those more experienced, to take on some of the largest waves the Pacific has to offer.
Thirty minutes after settling into my hostel, having breakfast, and realising locals elongate their vowel sounds, I was already signed up for a surf class. I had been planning lessons in Costa Rica, but as anyone who’s been to El Tunco can tell you, it’s practically impossible not to join when almost everyone’s carrying a surfboard. So, I caved and told Boris, a surfing instructor staying at my hotel, I’d be down for a lesson or two.
My childhood dream of becoming a surfer – thanks to Blue Water High – was finally gonna come true! Man, I still remember watching that show feeling this mix of emotions – half in awe, half in resentment – knowing I’d never be able to be as cool as them. Picture this – a clumsy boy who’s always picked second-to-last when it comes to playing sports, stuck in a small, dark room watching TV. Back then, getting to surf wasn’t even on my radar – no matter how awesome it seemed.
But, as faith would have it, that boy grew up into a man who not only loves sports, but also loves to explore the world. And so, a few decades down the line, against all odds and obstacles, I found myself on my way to my first surfing lesson!
Dry-Land Practice
When we were ready, Boris took me to the surf shop and outfitted me with a student T-shirt and a beginner-level board – a huge green one I named Edge (in reference to my favourite character in Blue Water High, of course).
Carrying that beast to the beach was harder than I anticipated, but the gorgeous walk to the beach distracted me from the workout. A long road full of colourful shacks and restaurants, all covered in street art and surfboards, leads to a black sandy beach. Here, the black stones and the sandy beach are met with the bluest of seas – huge waves in the distance crashing down to form foam at the shore, with a whale-shaped rock formation in the horizon.
Slowly and clumsily, I followed Boris down to the beach. At this point, I hit him with my usual warning: “I’m a slow learner when it comes to sports, so you gotta be patient. I know my limits and take forever to pick things up.” To this, he replied that being aware of my limits is in fact a good quality, and that from his own experience, it’s much better than having an overconfident student who gets injured trying to go faster than they should. Hearing these words from this stereotypical long-haired, tan, “cawabunga” surfer type dude truly encouraged me!
Once we got to a suitable place, he had me trace the board’s perimeter in the sand. We’d be using this to practice the theoretical aspect prior to going out in the open water. First off, he had me standing with my ankles touching each other and then went behind me and pushed me. By using my right foot to stabilise myself, I was automatically labelled as ‘goofy’ instead of ‘regular’ (hurtful!).
Then, he had me go belly-down on the board drawing, and, with my feet close to the tail of the board, I’d have to position myself right at the centre of the board, with any imbalance resulting in my inevitable fall once I’d get to stand up. From this neutral position, I’d be paddling with my arms and looking behind me at regular intervals until a good wave would come into view (what’s a good wave anyways?). At that point, it’d be the banana pose’s turn – I’d position both palms against the board right next to my chest, and then, with a push, lift the upper half of my body upwards. At the same time, I’d have to bend my left leg, with the heel right next to my right knee, using the former to push myself into the standing-squatting position, with my right leg forward, the left one behind and both hands facing the front of my body.
After a couple of tries, I felt confident that I could do it on dry land but certain enough that under no circumstance would I be able to do such complex moves on the choppy waves. He reassured me that we’d have ample time to practice and that no one gets it from the very start.
Surf's Up!
We headed into the sea, waves crashing, me tumbling on every set. Fifteen metres out, I lay on the board, watching for the ‘ideal’ wave. My first attempts? Too slow. “Come on Marius… banana pose, then stand and ride!” Boris urged. I finally got up on a baby wave and stumbled, but it counted. Then I fell backwards, again and again. I struggled back through roaring surf to retry, exhausted but determined.
And with that, we walked into the sea, the waves beating hard against my board, me tumbling underneath every single one. After showing me how to correctly hold the surfboard, I could eventually join him, some fifteen metres away from the shore. There, he had me lie on the board as we practiced, and, as soon as the ‘ideal’ wave was a few metres away, he told me to get ready. “Come on Marius, just like we practiced… Banana pose, then stand and ride the wave!” I asserted to myself, repeating the steps in my head over and over.
Then the wave came and went without me so much as moving. “Ayy, too slow!” he said, “Just do it, don’t’ think too much about it!”. The next ideal wave took a few minutes to show up, but this time, I was ready for it. “Get up!” he said, as the wave hit the board. From the banana pose I quickly propelled myself upwards to stumble sideways right into the water. “You weren’t in the centre!” he said. On the next one, I fell backwards. “Your front leg was too behind!” he said.
On and on this went. Every time, between one wave and the other, I’d have to walk back to him, struggling against the roaring waves as they tried their best to keep me from going out. It was exhausting! But I kept at it. As I had told him, I was a slow learner, but, I was also very okay with that. I knew that it’d take me a long while but I also knew that with enough practice, I could potentially master it. And so, as determined as ever, I’d get back up on the board and try again, each wave as promising as the one before it.
On my very last wave of the day, I finally did it. Granted, it was a small wave – a baby one if you will. But I managed to stand and ride it out, and lemme tell ya, the feeling of managing to surf over a wave (albeit a small one) is something else. I felt powerful, free, in control, accomplished, proud, satisfied… cool as hell!
One wave out of dozens, yet that was the only one I could think about for the rest of the day. Walking back to the surf shop, I felt like I had somehow accomplished a childhood dream. I was so damn proud – even if it was just a tiny baby wave! And I wasn’t done yet. I decided to extend my stay in El Tunco by a couple of days and signed up for more lessons. I knew I’d have to do a proper surfing camp someday – perhaps spend a few months somewhere – but for the time being, I’d have to settle for a few classes!