Riding a Big One

Last weekend a load of us headed to OB (the cool name for Ocean Beach) for our very first surf lesson.  The deal was for 3 hours after which you could keep the board for the rest of the day should you so wish.  "3 hours !", I thought .... what are the chances you'd ever want to keep the board afterwards !

Anyways, when we all got there it turned out there was 13 in the group; 9 of us and 4 of dem dere outsiders - one of which turned out to be Irish - they're freakin' everywhere dem lads.  So after introducing ourselves (which was of course hilarious because of all the Dutch names that no one could pronounce) the 3 instructors - all hard code surf dudes - took us down to the beach.  We had to start off with some of the basics - the pop-up, some balancing exercises etc. - all of which turned out to be a good laugh despite the dripping sweat.  I say "good laugh" because the instructors seemed to get a kick out of it in any case.

Having quickly progressed from white belt to green, the instructor dudes decided we were ready for the big time.  Sweat suits on; pick a board and let's go ride a big one ... (wave - you pervs !). 

Cautiously pacing the periphery.  It's all about timing after all.

There was plenty of this !

But just once in a while (let's face it - just once), this happened.  You can see the total and utter jealousy on the face of the girl to my right - not to mention the disbelief on my face.

When it was all over and done with (exactly 3 hours later !), I was none the worse for wear - aside from the bruise on my forehead, broken toenail and the red raw hands that is.

The lads !  No prizes for spotting the (other) Irish guy*.

*Hint: builder's tan.