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OAK ISLAND , NC
Don�t get me wrong however, we really enjoyed staying at the Wise�s cottage, it was very nice indeed, but there is no place like home.
I was really beginning to realize just how much I had enjoyed the last four months of living here. Of course, all of our activities, in absolute detail, were recorded by my Grandmother on twenty-seven gazillion miles of eight-millimeter movie film. She made enough movies of every daily activity that she could have put National Geographic Documentaries to shame.
But without a crystal ball, it was impossible to realize just how much pleasure there would be over the next forty years of viewing these films and reminiscing.
The next month was spent much like the previous four, but with more of an accent on ocean related activities such as, riding the waves on surf mats, learning to body surf, learning to dive for shells. Much time was also spent learning a great deal about currents, undertows, riptides, tidelines and anything else that would enable me to be just as much at home in the water as I was on the shore.
Of course my love of music had not diminished either. I began to notice the sounds of a new band from Hawthorne California called the �Beach Boys�. They were putting out their message of sun, fun, and surfing. Well, I wanted to get in on that action because their songs sounded the way that I felt.
I found a surfboard manufacturer on the West Coast because there were none on the East Coast. Well, except for one that was rumored to exist in Florida. I really did not know exactly what I was looking for, but I was lucky enough to speak on the phone to a man in his early twenties by the name of Greg Noll. Greg was an expert �Big Wave� rider and also the owner of Greg Noll Surfboards Inc. He helped me choose a board that was right for the East Coast surf conditions.
The technology and materials, which were used in that era, were vastly different than those used in today�s lightweight surfboards. About two weeks later, a Greg Noll, eleven foot, two inch, double glassed surfboard with redwood skeg and redwood stringers, arrived by truck, all one hundred and three pounds of it!
The next morning at around 6:30 AM, I set out to learn to surf. I had been riding the waves on surf mats for years. Just how much harder can this �surfing� thing be?
After lugging that board down to the beach, it was a relief to put it down on the sand. We�re talking serious atrophy of the arms here! Before the board could be used in the water, paraffin wax had to be rubbed onto the top surface of the board for proper footing. Without the wax, the board surface would be too slick, when wet, to stand on it.
As I was waxing the board, I aroused the curiosity of several early morning beach walkers, none of which had ever seen a surfboard before. Some of them asked me if it was some kind of aquaplane, but most of them didn�t have a clue what it was used for.
My first day in the water with my surfboard could be summed up as a day of experimentation. I had to learn how to paddle the board, control the board while paddling, how to stabilize the board in the on-coming breakers, how to judge where to take off on a wave, and finally, how to stand on the board after takeoff. Board control, judging wave structure and wave selection would come later.
The first day, I was in the water constantly from about 7:00 AM to around 6:45 PM that evening. After emerging from the ocean, I half carried and half dragged that surfboard, which got heavier with each step that I took, back to the house. After going inside and taking a shower, I lay down across the bed and didn�t move again until I woke up at 8:45 AM the next morning.
The consensus of the previous day was that I was not really sure who won the battle of the surf, the board, or me, but the war was not over and that was a war that I did not intend to lose.
By Labor Day weekend, I had become fairly good at surfing. In fact, I was the best surfer on the beach. That was mainly due to the fact that I was the only surfer on the beach. One thing that I did find out was that surfing and popularity went together automatically. Everyone started to know me as a �surfer�, and I had people appearing from out of nowhere wanting to be friends, especially the girls. This was fast becoming an addictive set of circumstances.