Every wave that rose in front of me while I was in the lineup at my favorite surf spot the other day offered the kind of ride you remember for a week. But each time I plunged my arms into the ocean, windmilling for momentum, my surfboard seemed anchored to the reef.
This is becoming a crisis, I told myself after an hour of failed attempts. Why am I stuck with this board? It’s so old, it weighs a ton. I deserve a new one.
Before you question my degree of selfishness, I believe I’m owed this. Mrs. G and I both have jobs (several, actually), there are no more college bills and the mortgage gets paid each month. Plus, a new surfboard is far less expensive than the new truck I once asked for — which, it should be noted, I never got.
And my current surfboard was old when I bought it. In 2002.
Lots of surfers have garages full of boards. Boards for different conditions. I have only one.
I’ve gotten a lot of use out of it, regularly surfing on Sunday mornings with a group of aging curmudgeons, all of whom, it should also be noted, have boards better than mine. Never mind that my friends are better surfers. They have an easier time catching waves because their boards are so light that paddling them is effortless. Mine, not so effortless.
I’ve taken care of it, though. When the fiberglass skin on my board started coming off, as it did on two occasions, I repaired it. Except for the bulge that looks like a 10-inch-wide arch support, you hardly notice a thing. But all this reconstruction, combined with a bit of age, made it heavier. (Sounds like me, as I bought this board two knee surgeries and 25 pounds ago.)
How heavy is this board? After I carry it, my left arm feels longer. It’s heavier than the family board we got rid of — the one with so many dings you could hear water sloshing around inside after surfing.
Mrs. G. said I had no one to blame but myself for the sorry situation.
“If you weren’t so picky, you would have a new board by now,” she said. “How long have you been talking about this? Three years?”
Well, she had me there. I had looked at boards on Craigslist. I had visited a Kakaako surfboard shop where I was told the best choice for me was a new board for $1,000. And I went to a shop in Kailua where I found a board that made my heart flutter — a used, blue longboard that was shaped to make catching waves easier.
But I worried about imperfections on the deck, and someone else bought it.
“You can’t wait on these decisions,” Mrs. G. told me.
Why is she always right? I thought. I rarely buy something when I first see it. I tend to mull over the potential purchase, pick apart the idea and dream about what it will be like when it’s finally mine.
All that makes buying a new board a heavy decision. I can’t shake the feeling that a new surfboard is a long-term commitment. What do I do if I wind up hating it?
The logical answer would be to sell it and look for a new one, even though that would send me back to the lineup on my old board to windmill my arms against inertia.
Like I said, I’m stuck.
Reach Mike Gordon at 529-4803 or email mgordon@staradvertiser.com.