Ocean Story
By: Natasha Hughes
Tags: Mwc Reentry, Waves, Surfing, Ocean

As a child I used to play all day in the waves.

Later that night lying in my bed,

the sand and the sea still inside my head.

I asked my father “Daddy, what can it be?”

And he said, “There’s water in you just like the sea. It’s movin’ and groovin’ to the rhythm of the ocean.”

- Excerpt from the song “Rhythm of the Ocean” by Hawaiian Style Band

Photo by Photoholgic on Unsplash

Technically, my first time was in high school; however, I tell people it was in college.

My high school English teacher asked us to write a paper about something we wanted to do or be when we grew up. The caveat was that we needed to experience this thing in order to write about. I chose surfing. Living in Northern California the closest spot was Santa Cruz. I had a friend whose family surfed so they took me out. I wore an oversized wetsuit that bubbled up and pulled me back to the surface anytime I went underwater. I caught one wave on my stomach, wiped out and then got hit on the head by my board. Needless to say, the paper didn’t turn out great, I was not and am still not, a professional surfer, and I didn’t surf again for several years.

Fast forward to my sophomore year of college, where the story really begins. My, so thought, destiny, my soulmate and the love of my life left me and moved to another state. Being my first heartbreak, I was fairly needy and inconsolable at times. Thankfully, I had friends, including one friend in particular with whom I hung out with almost daily. Getting sick of hearing me speak about how one day he and I would reconnect, she suggested we start surfing. Looking back, I think it was a way for her to still hang out with me, but also allowed her to paddle away or catch waves to stop from listening to me talk about him. Additionally, a way to get my mind off of him.

Thankfully, it worked.

Thankfully, surfing has become a constant in my life. Not necessarily something I do everyday all the time, but something I can always come back to.

Throughout my life I have ebbed and flowed, like the ocean, when it comes to my surfing. Since the start of the pandemic, I have been able to surf 5 or more days a week. Prior to the pandemic I was a weekend warrior, only able to get out on Saturday and Sunday. However, each time I paddle out, whether the last time was several months ago, last weekend, yesterday or a few hours ago, my reentry is always telling. For me, surfing is a barometer, a check in with myself. When I paddle out, I am immediately aware of how well I have been taking care of myself. If I have been working out and eating well, I can tell in my surfing. I have confidence, stamina, flexibility and a lot more fun.

On the other hand, if I have been feeling low or uneasy it surrounds me in the water. The feelings and emotions encapsulate me and I become more aware of them in the ocean. The emotions surface, and while it may sound like it would bring me down, it actually allows me to work through them. As I struggle to confidently take off on waves and paddle for more than white wash, I am also struggling through my feelings. These sessions don’t usually produce my best performances in the water, but by the time I paddle in, my reentry onto land is emotionally lighter. While the entry into the water may be difficult, the result is always worth it.

As for the song lyrics at the beginning of this article. Those lyrics are relatable to many, if not all, surfers. After a long day in the water of catching waves, falling and paddling, something happens to you when you close your eyes to sleep. You see waves crashing inside your head and your body remembers the feeling of being on the water. When I surfed in Santa Cruz, I did not have that experience when I slept. However, when I started surfing in Hawai’i, I would fall asleep with the waves still in my head. It is for that reason Hawai’i’s ocean was, and will continue to be, the place that teaches me about itself and myself every time I reenter. While I don’t dream of waves after every session, following long periods of not surfing, when I do reenter, the ocean rewards me by rocking me to sleep via its rhythm in my head.