Hangin' 10 on 7 Mile Beach

If i had to sum up the weekend in one picture it would be this one: 

If i were allowed to use a 2nd picture...:

Despite how many times I may have wiped over the course of the past two days (lets just say this is one of about 10 photos of me in this position...and those are just the documented failures...) I am absolutely hooked on surfing. Perhaps because it feels like how I would imagine walking on water a la Jesus would feel; there is something incredibly ethereal about riding a wave. To coast down the face of a breaking swell (even if they rarely measured taller than a few feet...) and soar towards the sand while the spray from the surf creates miniature rainbows is truly to feel in harmony with nature. 

Time out. I just reread that last sentence, realized how cliche and affected it sounds. 

Take 2: To coast down the face of a breaking swell (even if they rarely measured taller than a foot...) and soar towards the sand while the spray from the surf creates miniature rainbows is truly to feel in harmony with nature while simultaneously feeling like an utter and complete badass (see picture 1 and pretend that the wave is a little bigger). Much better.

It was a weekend of 2's. We had 2 2 hour surf sessions over the course of 2 days. We were served 2 portions of the main dish (e.g. whopping burgers, sandwiches, or chicken breasts) at every meal and even that was barely enough to fill our grumbling bellies. The waves were on average about 2 feet (Although let me assure you they felt much bigger. Apparently they measure waves "from the back". I haven't quite figured out what that means yet but apparently the waves are bigger than they sound...) Lastly, I saw my life flash before my eyes 2 times: once when i felt something slimy clamp around my ankles (my hilarious surf instructor Jack-o who decided to sneak up on me while i stood mesmerized by the Pelicans that would periodically drop into the ocean like torpedos) and secondly when i saw this:

Duh-nu, duh-nu, du-nuh, -du-nu, du-nuh, duh nuh (que: Jaws theme). 

The moment that i realized the unsavory-looking fin belonged to a dolphin and not a Great White Shark was an incredible one - firstly because i could breathe a sigh of relief that I was not about to become a mid-morning snack and secondly because i realized I was surfing with a school of wild dolphins in Australia. 

RAD! Note: much to the chagrin of the instructors, I frequently drew upon my arsenal of surf jargon that I've amassed from such informative surfing flicks as Johnny Tsunami (Disney Channel Original Movie circa 1999) and Blue Crush. Sensing my desperation to assimilate and become gnarlatious (a legit word), they taught me some new terms:

frothy (adj) ~ excited.

gremlin (n) ~ a beginning surfer

banzai (exclamation) ~ like a surfers version of "Cowabunga!"

To use them all in a sentence: 

Us gremlins were uber frothy to be surfing and shouts of "Banzai" could be heard up and down the beach.

In any case, I am absolutely obsessed with surfing and aim to continue my surfing education, next time hopefully when its a little bit warmer. I forgot to mention this earlier but it's winter here and this was actually the last weekend Surf Camp was in session. The temperatures weren't arctic (the air was probably 65 degrees and the water 75 degrees) but it was not exactly pleasant putting on a damp wetsuit at 7 o'clock in the morning. 

Anyway, I am in pain in muscles i didn't know I had and struggling to keep my eyes open so I'm going to call it a night. 

Goodnight bras (as in the surfer version of bros, not women's lingerie. That would be weird)