My board swayed calmly on the cool green water. Bits of seaweed sat tangled among my hair. The sour taste of seawater hung in my mouth. Ahead of me the surfing instructor droned on about the “spiritual values of surfing” as he put it, swinging his long hair from side to side as he spoke. I sighed, staring past him at the vibrant, blue horizon, wishing I were someplace else.

Everything about the instructor seemed comical. First of all there was his name, Moonbeam, which had caused a few snickers from the other kids in the class when he first introduced himself. There was also his hair, which grew down past his shoulders, and was decorated with shells. Most of all it was the way he approached surfing as a spiritual event, and the ridiculous phrases he blurted out, in such a wise sounding, hushed tone. 

“So basically kids,” the instructor concluded, “surfing is like a spiritual bridge that connects your mind to the many different forms of life in the ocean, and with that you should be good.”

The group was silent for a moment, the light touch of spindrift brushing against our faces as the waves rolled by. 

“What do we do about form?” one girl finally asked.

“Form?” Moonbeam exclaimed, “Well, what you want to do there is bend your knees, and look straight, the rest you’ll figure out!”

             Some advice, I thought.

“So,” he began, “who wants to go first?”  

There was a long pause, each surfer continued to stare ahead lazily. 

“No one?”

Another pause. Moonbeam scanned the group carefully, nobody spoke.

“Alright then, Chris you're up!” he told me.

“Um,” I stuttered, trying to think of an excuse, “I need to watch someone else do it first.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say so, you see Chris,” he started in that strange tone of his, “each surfer has their own, unique way of opening their heart to the ocean.”

I gave him a puzzled look.

“You know what I mean,” he explained.

I did not.

            I hesitated, Moonbeam shot me an impatient glance. 

“There’s a wave coming up now, start paddling Chris!” he instructed.

“I’m not ready yet,” I told him.

Ignoring me, he continued towards the back of my board, “You’ll thank me later.”

He then gave me a great push as the wave came by, allowing little time for me to contemplate everything. I still sat with my bottom on the board, and legs dangling in the water. Quickly, I turned myself stomach down, and swung my legs in. The towering wave swooped me up, like a beast that had found me in its path. Totally in shock, I was off, carried away in the jaws of the great beast. 

I panicked, breathing heavily, and practically hugging the safe, familiar board as the water rushed past me. Jump off was my first thought. But I was too scared, the wave stood monstrously over me, seeming to mock my puny size with its great fury, and strength. Like a large animal moving under an oily green carpet. I could almost hear it, giving out a monstrous roar as we continued forward, like it wanted to eat me whole. Just stay on the board, you’re fine right here on the board. That calmed me down a little. All I had to do was stay there until the wave died. Don’t look at the wave, I told myself, don’t even think about it.

But as much as I tried to, I couldn't help but sneak a few glances as we moved along, and each time I did the wave seemed to have gotten bigger.  Eventually getting to where if I had been standing up it would have towered above my head. Additionally foam was beginning to form at its tips, and the ride grew increasingly bumpy. It suddenly struck me that at any moment this wave could tumble over me, and I’d be caught in the undertow dragged around like a ragdoll, swirling in circles, having saltwater crammed down my throat. Or worse. 

Ahead of me the city of Honolulu sat colorfully lit in the warm sunshine. The beach was laid beautifully before it, complete with sunbathing adults, and little kids scampering about in th sand. How unfortunate had I been to have left that to be so wet, and miserable, at the complete mercy of a beast that would open its jaws, and swallow me whole, happily, at any minute now. I sighed, wishing I had paddled away from that stupid class the moment I got one good look at Moonbeam. 

I took another glance behind me at the beast, and froze, realizing the middle of the wave had sunk back, while the top stuck out over me with an increased amount of foam foaming. It was going to crash. I could taste the ocean water already. I tried to imagine a situation where I wouldn’t get wiped out too badly. But it was pointless. 

Signs of crashing increased rapidly. The top of the wave stuck out more and more. It had grown to be almost twice the size it had been since I’d first caught it, or more correctly since it’d caught me. My mind raced, wishing I had jumped off while it had still been smaller. How stupid could I have been to assume that this wave would have simply died out. I gulped, feeling the wave crash around me. With only a single moment of preparation, I squeezed my arms around the board. I felt a great force push me down until I could feel the smooth sand of the ocean floor as my toes brushed against it. The sour taste of saltwater filled my mouth despite my efforts to keep it shut. Much of it managed to trickle down my throat causing me to gag. The taste became stronger, and I felt like throwing up.

Everything was happening so fast. All I could think about was getting to the surface. Which didn’t feel possible at the moment. In my first attempt to swim up I had only managed to get a quick breath before I was sent swirling down again. I could only wait out the crash as the undertow tugged me around mercilessly, and hold onto my swim trunks. 

Finally the strength the crash had once contained weakened. This time I was able to swim right up to the surface, and the great power that had once pushed me down had disappeared in a great big pile of foam. I burst up, spurting out almost all the seawater I had swallowed in a coughing fit. To my right the surfboard floated, fin up on the foamy water. As I pulled myself on top of it, other waves passed by, all dwarfs compared to the giant I had ridden. Behind me I could see the surf lesson continuing in the vast distance. Moonbeam had started to try and get other kids standing up on their boards, and carry on with the class like he had forgotten I was gone. And perhaps he had. But I didn’t have nearly enough interest to care.

Without a second thought I headed for the shore. Thinking, next time, I'll just go paddleboarding.