Pack Animals

Surfer's are pack animals. It's one of the great paradoxes in surf culture:

1. Surfers lament crowds (unless they're filled with friends). All things equal, surfers prefer to have the waves all to themselves, because that means they can paddle into anything without worrying about being cutoff or dropping in on someone. So, it's a good day when the lineup is light.

2. And yet, surfers love to congregate. After each set, surfers tend to settle around each other. The first person to make it out beyond the break becomes a magnet for all the surfers paddling behind.

I've always been fascinated by this lil game of "follow the leader" for 2 reasons because it's not like the trailblazer has any proprietary information about where the next set will form. Sure, there's some consistency of the peak's general vicinity. However, the only constant is change. The peak shifts with every set. So, in Reality, the ocean is in control and we're all just on the receiving end.

Also, sure, when I was a beginner, it was helpful to track the more experienced surfers. Their volume of reps supplied them with a more-informed prediction (and I had absolutely no clue what I was doing). But, eventually, I'd seen enough sets to know that nobody knows what they're doing. Nobody has unfettered access to the ocean's next move. Nobody has inside info on where to go. So, why would I continue to follow where that guy is going? Why not trust my gut & go my own way?

One of my favorite rides of all-time was the result of surrendering to my instincts.

To set the scene, I was on a surf trip in Nicaragua with some friends. We'd driven through the jungle & on to the beach in our gritty Jeep.

The waves were absolutely firing and the lineup was empty. It was every surfer's dream. So, my compadres geared up & paddled out immediately. But, I hung back on the beach, just stretching & observing, doing my best to exercise some patience, while releasing my scarcity mindset.

Our local surf guide, Martin, had pointed us in the direction of the main break. So, that's where all my friends went. However, I noticed that there was something cooking over to the left. It was inconsistent, but every so often, there was a huge peak that appeared to form ~100 yards away from the crew.

So, that's where I went...

After paddling out, I sat there solo for ~15 minutes...

My ego started second-guessing the decision: "Why are you over here? There's nothing happening. It's all mushy. Go link up with your friends. You're gonna waste your whole session!"

But, luckily, my True Self wrestled away the mic: "Be patient. Just trust it. It's coming..."

All of the sudden, seemingly out of nowhere, a set started forming right where I was. I was tempted to rush into the first wave, especially after all the waiting. But, instead, I doubled down on patience, letting it pass, as I got into position. My True Self directing me the whole way: "Let it go. Trust it. There'll be another right behind this."

Sure enough, there was. My heart dropped because it was way bigger than what I was comfortable with and its shape was perfect. So, I was afraid to drop in AND I was afraid to botch it.

But, as the wave built to its peak, I quieted those fears and shifted my attention to what I could control: I focused. I paddled. I got into position.

Then, I let go of all fear of failure and just dropped in...

I stuck the pop-up. Now, I was on the peak of a beautifully-curling left-hand break (the preference for a Goofy guy like me). I was pumping up & down the wave, compounding the speed I'd built from the drop. I was in the flow.

Then, all of the sudden, I was right next to the crew. They were whooping & cheering, as good friends do. Their stoke made me pump even harder. I was gunning it full-speed as the wave started to close out in front of me. Finally, I turned toward the collapsing crest and... EJECTED!

I got absolutely launched into the air... a full-blown BLASTOFF... and nailed a wave-ramp-assisted front-flip (the first of the summer).

It was glorious.

I earned "Wave of the Day" honors for that session. And, for me, it was the Ride of a Lifetime.

Catching that wave was the result of being willing to break away from the pack, rather than follow it. I started off alone, completely on my own. I trusted my instincts, as I waited for the next set to come. Then, when the opportunity presented itself, I let go of the fear of failure... and just dropped in.