Seasick Dreams

Capitulo Uno

Euphoria.

It is the only way I can describe how it feels like to ride a wave. The visceral pull and never-ending tides of the ocean made even the worst of days seem like my birthday. Imagine the combination of water coursing through your skin, the sun radiating from the sky, and the sand that cleanses away all of your worries, leaving a bliss that seems like forever but ends abruptly.

Now picture, the world in the palm of your hands, watching it unravel itself right before your very eyes. Feeling the anticipation build up as the waves taunt you and challenge your existence yet letting the adrenaline take control. You're there, as vulnerable as ever, facing Poseidon's wrath but the platform underneath you is by your side saying, "hey we can do this." Your body is timid but your mind is a mile ahead and before you know it, you're riding a wave of a lifetime. Fear and doubt is out the window and the only thing surfacing is mountain-top experience that can only be achieved by surfing. 

The roars from the shore, the colors of the sunset, and the taste of salt constantly sent my senses on overdrive. Nothing could beat the wind that ruffled my curls or the connection I felt with not only the sea but my surfboard. It was as if it was an extension of me, whatever I did, my handy fish board followed. Every slight weight-shift awakened it's body, making the impossible, possible. Despite the choppy one foot waves, sunburns that burned my skin to the crisp and brain damaging wipeouts, I always returned to the scene of the crime.

So yeah...Euphoric is the perfect way of describing how it feels like to surf.

All my other endeavors barely touched the feeling I got when I'm out catching waves. The world around me seemed mystical and while I was out there, facing true power, a sense of peace and solitude took over my body. I felt at ease as if I were invincible and no matter what was troubling me during the day, everything went away once my feet touched the sea. The un-conquerable would become conquerable and when I was introduced to one of the biggest waves in the west, I couldn't help but feel determination surge through me.

My father was a surfer. He waxed his board like clock-work, day and night, and sometimes when he deemed me as 'good', he would let me wax it myself. I was introduced to the surfing world at an early age by seeing his obsession littered all over our home. Photos, surfboards, wax kits and even decks of fiberglass he'd use to handcraft the boards that paid for the roof over our heads. 6 AM sharp, seven days a week for almost four hours a day, he claimed the sea as his. 

Whenever I finished my homework on-time or summer break was among our midst, he would let me accompany him down to the shore. I would watch him with star eyes, wanting nothing more than to be out there, vanquishing the same waves. The way he maneuvered every wave like they were his own made everything seem as easy as 1,2,3. Settle waves, bright skies, tuna sandwiches and a carton of Hawaiian Punch were what made my childhood perfect. However, not everything was rainbows and sunshine and it wasn't everyday that my father was the man I admired out on the beach.

When times got hard and the kitchen counter were pilled high with bills, my father became a different man. He would change from the life of the party to a mean, hostile and physical man. The dark clouds that lingered above the Duncan household would last for weeks, sometimes even months, but when the clouds cleared, everything went back to normal. Although, my mother and I counted down the days, seeing them approach quicker as the years went by, we did nothing as if we were conditioned to behave that way.