paddleboard, Zeke Francis, no matter how much you nag me.
I’d tried SUPs in Newquay and completely embarrassed myself. I kept dropping the paddle and could barely manage to stay on my feet as every crossways ripple sent me into the water with an immense, mortifying splash. Then, once I was in the water, I couldn’t scramble back on the board while clutching a paddle in my hand, so I’d inevitably drop it again. All mycoordination deserted me on an SUP and I really didn’t want Zeke to see that.
“Wearing your tourist hat, huh?”
“Exactly. I’ll get back on the salads tomorrow.”
“Ha ha,” Zeke said. “I know what you’re doing. I’ve got you all figured out. This is Procrastination 101.”
“No idea what you’re talking about, mate.”
“I know you’re twitchy about that hammerhead, but you gotta chill. It’s just a fish.”
“Yeah, the hammerhead, ” I said, sensing an opportunity. Zeke assuming I was more afraid of sharks than of making a fool of myself was fine by me. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”
But Zeke was having none of it; he was the sort of adventure junkie who didn’t believe that fear, danger, risk of death were reasons not to do something if anything, those three things were his main criteria for picking a new hobby.
“I saw, like, one spinner shark out there,” he said, “and even he was just cruising.”
Spinner sharks were known for leaping out of the water close to shore, often right behind the line-up, which was a little bit alarming when you were out there waiting to catch a wave.
“I’m busy here,” I said, popping another Cheeto and following it with a Dorito.
“Tanning? Come have fun. I’ll go back to the hotel and get the Shark Shield for your board, if you want, so you’ll be totally safe.”
The Shark Shield was supposed to repel sharks, stop them getting closer than five meters. It had been tested on most species and seemed to work, but no one could be completely sure.
“Don’t bother,” I said. “Battery’s flat after yesterday. It was flashing red and green this morning, so I put it on charge.”
“We don’t need it anyhow. Hey, we just saw a bunch of cobia fish following migrating manta rays. It was so awesome. Come on, you might never have another chance to see that your whole life.”
“I’m fine here, thanks.”
“If you really want a career as a pro-surfer,” Zeke went on, “you have to get used to sharing the ocean with wildlife. Otherwise you’re basically just limiting yourself to Fistral Beach and indoor bathing pools, so let’s do this thing. If something awkward goes down, we can jump on our boards and paddle back.”
Awkward would definitely be going down the moment I stood on a stand-up paddleboard. I knew I’d make a tit of myself and everyone on the beach would notice, as I’d make a giant splash every time I fell in, which is exactly what had happened the last time I’d tried SUPing at Fistral.
“Look, how about we both go out on the same board?” I said, finally seeing the obvious solution to my problem. “You can paddle and I’ll sit on the front.”
“Deal,” Zeke said, going for a handshake.
“Just promise me one thing,” I said.
“What?”
“That we won’t end up chumming the water with our entrails.”
“Hey, you’re with me, aren’t you? Nothing bad can happen if you’re with me.” His eyes were twinkling and I knew he was laying on the charm, but I let myself be won over.
I sat on the front of the SUP, turquoise water all around, and Zeke stood behind me and paddled. Once we got past the sandbanks and the ocean got quieter, he started telling me about his childhood with his brothers and Chase in Hawaii, and I told him about adventures I’d had with Kelly and my sister Lily, knocking around on Fistral Beach. Memories that were important to me, but which I’d never shared with him before.
Eventually he sat down, straddling the board too, the paddle tucked under his knees, and
I’d tried SUPs in Newquay and completely embarrassed myself. I kept dropping the paddle and could barely manage to stay on my feet as every crossways ripple sent me into the water with an immense, mortifying splash. Then, once I was in the water, I couldn’t scramble back on the board while clutching a paddle in my hand, so I’d inevitably drop it again. All mycoordination deserted me on an SUP and I really didn’t want Zeke to see that.
“Wearing your tourist hat, huh?”
“Exactly. I’ll get back on the salads tomorrow.”
“Ha ha,” Zeke said. “I know what you’re doing. I’ve got you all figured out. This is Procrastination 101.”
“No idea what you’re talking about, mate.”
“I know you’re twitchy about that hammerhead, but you gotta chill. It’s just a fish.”
“Yeah, the hammerhead, ” I said, sensing an opportunity. Zeke assuming I was more afraid of sharks than of making a fool of myself was fine by me. “I think I’ll sit this one out.”
But Zeke was having none of it; he was the sort of adventure junkie who didn’t believe that fear, danger, risk of death were reasons not to do something if anything, those three things were his main criteria for picking a new hobby.
“I saw, like, one spinner shark out there,” he said, “and even he was just cruising.”
Spinner sharks were known for leaping out of the water close to shore, often right behind the line-up, which was a little bit alarming when you were out there waiting to catch a wave.
“I’m busy here,” I said, popping another Cheeto and following it with a Dorito.
“Tanning? Come have fun. I’ll go back to the hotel and get the Shark Shield for your board, if you want, so you’ll be totally safe.”
The Shark Shield was supposed to repel sharks, stop them getting closer than five meters. It had been tested on most species and seemed to work, but no one could be completely sure.
“Don’t bother,” I said. “Battery’s flat after yesterday. It was flashing red and green this morning, so I put it on charge.”
“We don’t need it anyhow. Hey, we just saw a bunch of cobia fish following migrating manta rays. It was so awesome. Come on, you might never have another chance to see that your whole life.”
“I’m fine here, thanks.”
“If you really want a career as a pro-surfer,” Zeke went on, “you have to get used to sharing the ocean with wildlife. Otherwise you’re basically just limiting yourself to Fistral Beach and indoor bathing pools, so let’s do this thing. If something awkward goes down, we can jump on our boards and paddle back.”
Awkward would definitely be going down the moment I stood on a stand-up paddleboard. I knew I’d make a tit of myself and everyone on the beach would notice, as I’d make a giant splash every time I fell in, which is exactly what had happened the last time I’d tried SUPing at Fistral.
“Look, how about we both go out on the same board?” I said, finally seeing the obvious solution to my problem. “You can paddle and I’ll sit on the front.”
“Deal,” Zeke said, going for a handshake.
“Just promise me one thing,” I said.
“What?”
“That we won’t end up chumming the water with our entrails.”
“Hey, you’re with me, aren’t you? Nothing bad can happen if you’re with me.” His eyes were twinkling and I knew he was laying on the charm, but I let myself be won over.
I sat on the front of the SUP, turquoise water all around, and Zeke stood behind me and paddled. Once we got past the sandbanks and the ocean got quieter, he started telling me about his childhood with his brothers and Chase in Hawaii, and I told him about adventures I’d had with Kelly and my sister Lily, knocking around on Fistral Beach. Memories that were important to me, but which I’d never shared with him before.
Eventually he sat down, straddling the board too, the paddle tucked under his knees, and
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