The Zen of Bodysurfing

11-21-07
By Corky Carroll


I love it when I get a great email that I can share with you.  Today I got the following story from a dude named Vince McDonough from Costa Mesa.  He titled this “The Zen of Bodysurfing.”  I liked it so here it is for you:

“My family has always been passionate for the seashore and the ocean. As natives of the OC, it is practically in our genes. Admittedly I was tentative at first. The summer of my sixth year, my dad in his infinite wisdom literally tossed me into the sea foam near the Santa Ana river jetty. That unceremonious baptism awoke in me a lifelong magnetism to the waters off Newport Beach.

Dad was our coach who showed us how to station ourselves in position to catch the wave. Like an uncoiling snake we would leap in the direction of the wave and kick and paddle furiously until the momentum of the wave caught us and we gleefully tumbled in the white water towards the sandy landing, delighting in the pure joy of bodysurfing.

As youngsters watching the “big boys” bodysurf we noticed that the swim fin was an integral part of the process. With fins the bodysurfer is able to get into position easier, catch the waves more efficiently, and avoid trouble in the form of surprisingly large wave sets that may at times appear outside, unexpectedly. If you’ve ever been caught under a breaking wave right at the wrong time you understand that concern.

As soon as I was old enough to drive we began making regular exoduses from Yorba Linda to our favorite spot, 15th street on the Balboa peninsula. 15th Street had the added bonuses of restrooms, showers and Fry’s Market for a cold soda and chips.  The four of us pals, Hubka, Hankens, my brother Dennis and I were in our glory. Tongue in cheek, we called ourselves the Inland Bodysurfing Association. The locals snubbed us but we felt we had the right stuff, including Duck Feet swim fins, to hold our place and take our share of waves.

The surfing culture is rich with its customs. Regular surfers adhere to routines which are practically religious in nature: the ceremonial undressing and the donning of the wetsuit under the cover of a beach towel wrapped around the waist; waxing the board; attaching the leash to the ankle; the momentary pause and pose before entering the water to scrutinize the wave action. To the freedom loving unencumbered bodysurfer, this was just too much stuff to deal with and haul around. My pleasure and satisfaction is simply the water and the wave; a pure one to one relationship between human and earth.

As the years marched on there was less time to devote to the beloved activity. It languished in the recesses of my memory until this summer when my brother rented a Balboa peninsula beach house and invited me down for a session. The sun was hot and the water was warmer and more inviting than it had been in years. The perfect body surfing sets of 3-4 foot mini-peaks and curls were pounding the shore at West Newport Beach. Easy to catch and fun to ride, I dubbed them toy waves!

Due to some vigorous workouts recently I am in better shape now at 53 than I was in my 40s. A few years back when I was more fat and bloated, I had only enough stamina to struggle to the surf lineup and, exhausted after that, escape back to the beach by the skin of my teeth panting breathlessly, dizzy. This time we confidently swam out through the foam and shore break to mix in with the surfers and energetically resumed our love affair with the place it all started way back when. The sets came at regular intervals with hardly a break in the action to let us catch our breath. We enthusiastically whooped it up and watched each other ride the toy waves.

The art of catching the wave is more than just furiously paddling and kicking anymore. I make it a point to look smooth and effortless, backstroking easily as the wave approaches then flipping over at just the last second to glide down the face of the wave on its shoulder, cutting left or right with an outstretched arm hydroplaning to steer our marvelous maneuvers. 

How glorious it is to enjoy God’s gift again! The toy waves have been there for these many years beckoning as I watched longingly from the sidelines. I feel reborn and the ocean has washed me with a new zeal for living. That little spark of desire can always be fanned into a great fire in the belly that drives a person to greater heights than could have been imagined. Faith and desire will always triumph if given the chance.”

 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING ~ The Wave

11-21-07
By Corky Carroll

I have always loved Thanksgiving.  For one thing it gives me the perfect excuse to eat way too much and have lots of deserts and just totally pig out.   It’s part of the deal.  And after you are totally stuffed you can blow it off as, “Hey, it’s Thanksgiving.”   Nothing like a great “excuse” I always say.  

Another great thing about Thanksgiving, well in most people’s lives anyway, is that you get off of work or school.  Ya gotta love that.  And for many of you it’s a 4-day weekend.  Ya gotta love those long weekends.  The longer the better.  

Which brings me to the heart of the matter.  It’s the day to say “Thank you” for all of the good stuff in our lives.   Getting to eat too much and not having to go to work or school are just a couple of those things.   I think most of us take for granted a zillion little things that we really should stop and think about and be thankful for.  The fact that we have a home for one.   No matter if it is big or small or rented or owned.  There are more people in this world without homes than most of us probably realize.  And if you live here in Orange County you more than likely have a home that is in the top twenty percent of the homes on Earth.  

And you have food to feast on for this day and all the other days.   Even if you are low on dough and having Turkey Day with a couple of turkey dogs from the market or a Burger King holiday.  It’s more than so many people have any day.   We are soooooo lucky.   

I bet many of you are wearing designer brand clothes right this minute.   Check it out… what do you have on?   Hurley?  Quicksilver?   Guess?   Billabong?   DNKY?  An old ragged Corky t-shirt?   (Oh, that’s me.)     You are lucky.   You are blessed with a good life.  

And look at this fantastic place.   Orange County is like Nirvana when compared to almost any other place in over a major percentage of the world.   There is everything you could want within short driving distance.  Any you probably have a car to get there in.  People in many parts of the planet would consider this the Promised Land.

All that said, the most important thing, at least to me, is our family and our friends.  THAT is what we need to give thanks for the most.   It is who would be next to us when everything goes bad and still care about us and love us.   Our children and wives and husbands and our brothers and sisters and mom’s and dad’s.   Your pal who would drop everything and drive 500 miles through a stormy night to be there for you if you needed him or her.   These are the blessings that go so far beyond possessions and the rest.   And these are the ones who we all take for granted the most.   We forget to tell them how important they are to us and we forget to remind ourselves.  They are there and we forget that at any minute, in the blink of an eye as they say, they could be gone.   It is so important to remember how really important that these people are in our lives and maybe today would be a good day to tell them.  Give them a call and see how they are and just tell ‘em how much you care about them and how important they are to you.

I have so many things to be thankful for.  My great kids.  Clint, Kasey and Tanner.  The fact that I get to go surfing every day.  I have been blessed with a fantastic life and I know it.  I don’t have much in the way of stuff and money but I am so rich in lifestyle and friends.  Blue Dog and the Iguana.  The Muy Bonita Karlita who gave me the best times of my life.  G-Boy, Mickey Ratt, Carlos Frankenstein, the Greek, Bruce “cross-step shuffle” Romano, Bones Bellman, my partner Ron,  James and Amritha, Dale and Sue, the whole crew at Dukes and Captain Jacks.  Dana Rhorabacher and Rockin’ Rhonda who are true patriots and such good people.  Kat and Bill.  Chris Rice who has been so good to me.   Robert August and everybody at the factory.  Mark.   I love all of you and all of you who there is not more room to mention.  Thank you all for reading me and to the Register for letting me ramble on week after week.  And thank you God for giving me another day.