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October 12, 2012 | in North America, Travel

Riding the Waves in Puerto Rico

This street sign in Rincon kinda says it all.

I firmly believe in the importance of starting each year off right.  Maybe it’s the tiny bit of writer in me and the infinite allure of the blank white page (now screen?).  But I refuse to become disillusioned by the overblown hoopla of New Years because I reeeeally want new beginnings to mean something.

This past New Year’s 2012, I determined there should be no better way to christen one of life’s blank white pages than with something terrifying.  Forging ahead through fear is usually a most satisfying experience (after the fact, of course- the actual forging sucks), and lucky for me, I won’t run out of these satisfying experiences because I find a lot of ridiculous things terrifying.

Day #10, 852: New Years Day 2012: Mr. M & I & my sister S (you remember her!) spent New Years in Puerto Rico, in the little surfing town of Rincon.

Rincon has a very different feel than the rest of Puerto Rico; it’s a definite haven for local and ex-pat surfers (well… not technically ex-pat, since PR is part of the US, but you get the point).  Even the local dogs like to get in on the action.

After a homey New Years Day brunch at our B&B, we three decided to walk half a block down to the ocean and dip our toes in the sand.

A crustacean resident of Rincon, also celebrating the advent of 2012 with a walk on the beach.

The ocean seems distinctly suited for New Years.  Something about the ebbing of times past and the washing in of new adventures, right?  I love the sea… from a distance, that is.  I’m horrified by actually having to get in it.  The waves scare me (Will they swallow me up?  Crash me headfirst onto rocks?)… fish scare me (Are they pissed that I’m in their territory?  Will they bite?  Is that a friggin’ shark??)… seaweed scares me (What the hell just touched my foot?!  Ohmygaaawwww!!).  I’m just an embarrassing, blubbering wreck.  I’ve been out into deep, not-able-to-touch-the-ocean-floor waters preposterously few times.  I shame my beachy Southern California roots.

Baby wavelets rolling in on the beaches of Rincon.

Which is why I decided that 2012 should begin in the Caribbean Sea.  On a surfboard.

Right…

A fitting street sign in Rincon.

That afternoon we drove to the little beach house where we’d been told to meet our instructor, Collin.  A tan kid nursing a New Years hangover directed us downstairs, where we waited.  A couple minutes later, in a flurry of F-bombs, shirtless and with a can of beer in hand, Collin burst into the room and immediately broke into a smile.  He announced that he liked our look and was happy we weren’t lame.  I was surprised how secretly pleased this made me.  It’s always nice to hear you’re not lame.

A decidedly Not Lame view in Rincon

Collin told us he had bad news (more F-bombs).  He had some business to tend to and needed us to hold off for an hour.  After apologizing profusely- even though we were happy to postpone our fate for another 60 minutes- Collin suggested we get lunch down the hill at Rock Bottom, which he assured us was “cool.”  Presumably it had also passed the Lame or Not test.  He also told us to get some booze in us to loosen up.  You gotta be loose to surf.

So we headed down to Rock Bottom and found ourselves in Jeff Spicoli’s own personal Garden of Eden.  The music was up.  Loud.  Half the people inside looked as though they’d never made it home from the night before.

The Rock Bottom Credo, as shared by a mustachioed octopus in shutter shades.  Smoking a shell.

An older surfer who was either super drunk or a little crazy- or bonus, both!- was yelling at the top of his lungs about free love and how you gotta FEEL the OCEAN, bro.  FEEL IT.  Tequila shots were being slammed at the bar.  It was noon.  I was scared.

One hour, two sandwiches, no booze, and a whole lotta Crazy Surfer later, we were ‘loosened up’ and back at the surf school.

We signed away our lives via waiver, and Collin had us practice hopping up on the board.  He emphasized that we shouldn’t think about the mechanics too much… when he yelled ‘pop up,’ we were to spring up- no thinking or second guessing, or we’d miss the wave.  Despite the day’s windy conditions, Collin announced us fit and determined fear would be our biggest handicap.  Ugh, isn’t that always the case?

“Right,” he proclaimed, “Let’s hit the beach.”

Deep breaths.  Deeeep breaths.

And the rest was a salty, exhausting, wind-blown, terrifying blur.

I know I made it out past the breaker, and I know that my fear of being half-eaten by a shark was rapidly forgotten in the wake of the rising waves, which kept slapping me in the face and flinging salt water into my burning eyes.  I know that despite paddling ashardasIpossiblycould, the wind kept forcing me back, towards the rocky shallows that Collin told us to avoid.  At some point Collin grabbed the back of my board, pushed me towards the shore, and screamed at me to POP UP, POP UP!  I also know that I did- clearly without thinking because I was way past that.  For no more than a second, I was actually riding a wave!

Despite all my oratorical bravado, I only stayed in the ocean for an hour or so.  Everything hurt.  I was completely and utterly exhausted, physically and mentally.  But I did it.  And had a big old smile on my face as I spit up salt water and collapsed on the sand.

Despite riding her own wave like a pro, sister S was a little more demoralized.  Collin pulled out his board and came and sat with us under a palm tree on the beach.

A view from the earlier, much calmer Rincon beach.  In the interest of maintaining some modicum of self-respect, I promise I got slammed by waves bigger than these.

Collin told us that he was only 28, and that he’d been diagnosed with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease a few years earlier.  It would eventually take his life, and he wasn’t sure he had another decade left in him.  Collin went on to tell us how much he loved being out on the ocean, how he always had since he was a boy growing up in Jersey, how he planned to grow the school and surf the Pacific and… His eyes lit up, and you could just tell he was back out in the water.

I found this picture of Collin doin’ his thang.

S and I were speechless, humbled by the idea of throwing yourself into life so aggressively.

Crusted with sand and all three now exceedingly smug at having “conquered” the ocean (Who knew Mr. M was actually an amazing surfer?  Wha?), we hugged Collin and thanked him for quite possibly the best New Year’s gift ever.

It’s always wonderful when you’re reminded to live, fully and passionately and wildly, until you can’t.  To ride the waves, if you will.

And maybe even enjoy them smacking you in the face.

Details of the Day:
Rincon Surf School
is the absolute best.  Seriously.  I was determined to go surfing on New Years Day and couldn’t find a school that was willing to give us a lesson due to the holiday.  Collin told me it’d be no problem and took us out himself so his guys could still have the day off.  It was just our group, so we essentially had a private lesson.  For all my dramatics, I never felt genuinely unsafe- those boys know their stuff when it comes to surfing and are unbelievably patient.  Even with water-phobes like me.

**Big thanks to my partner in surf, Sister S, whose photos are sprinkled throughout the post**

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Tags: balls out Caribbean ocean Puerto Rico Rincon surfing USA
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Comments

  1. pamasaurus October 13, 2012 Reply

    What a fabulous way to spend New Years! I've never been surfing, but it's definitely something I'd like to do one day. Collin's story definitely make me tear up a bit. He sounds like an amazing human being! (insert joke about all awesome people coming from Jersey here)

    • msdulce October 16, 2012 Reply

      Surfing was a fantastic way to start the year! That said, I think I'm all set never having to do it again. :) I'll leave that to Collin, who is most definitely making Jersey proud.

      • pamasaurus October 16, 2012 Reply

        (I'm from Jersey, haha)

  2. iamluissilva October 14, 2012 Reply

    You found an oasis of peace in a troubled land.

  3. Pingback: 2012: The Retrospective « Spend Your Days

    […] **2012 began in Puerto Rico ringing in the new year with Mr. M & Sister S. […]

    Reply
  4. Pingback: The Land of Fire & Ice, Part Einn: Independence | Spend Your Days

    […] onto him so tightly that I had crammed myself into the one-person driver’s seat with him.  Like surfing in Puerto Rico, snowmobiling is something I shall add to my Life Resume and never, ever do […]

    Reply
  5. Michelle @ A Dish of Daily Life February 10, 2014 Reply

    That sounds like such a cool way to spend New Years. I would love to go to Puerto Rico! And I love Collin's outlook on life...sounds like he lives each day to the fullest. That's definitely a lesson most of us need to learn...there are no guarantees. Visiting from #sitsblogging and just followed you on twitter!

    • Miranda S. February 12, 2014 Reply

      Thank you so much for stopping by, Michelle! I love how SITS has introduced me to so many wonderful new friends &, of course, new blogs to read! It was really exciting to celebrate the New Year in PR (extra-special, as my dad was born there!), and a true gift to meet Collin on the first day of 2012. It's always nice being reminded to live life to the fullest. :)

  6. Rashida February 10, 2014 Reply

    Sounds like you had a blast! I loved PR when I went in 2012. I never thought to go surfing though but being a surfer girl/beach bum sounds like fun :)

    • Miranda S. February 12, 2014 Reply

      Isn't Puerto Rico beautiful?! There were a ton of ex-pat American beach bums in the town where we were staying, and it looked like quite the life. :) Did you stay mostly in San Juan while you were there in 2012?

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