In yesterday's post I mentioned that I'd been out on the ocean with Kaela from Camps Bay SUPS. What I failed to mention was how utterly useless I was on the water. It was quite ridiculous, actually. Allow me to tell you the story:
About six weeks ago I spent the better part of an hour paddling around on the V&A Waterfront canals. It was *really* easy. I had my balance within only a few seconds (probably due to years of skateboarding, I figured, ha) and the only reason I eventually fell in was because I was horsing around, testing my stability, you see.
Anyway, fast forward six weeks. I figured my outing at Camps Bay was going to be a cinch. I had this all wrapped up. I was definitely going to impress my host. I grabbed a board and headed for the water, wading in until I was deep enough to be behind most of the tiny wavelets.
With a grand display of prowess I hopped onto the deck, pulling myself up onto my knees (as the clever NaishInternational's YouTube lesson instructed). Man, I was on top of this. King of the SUPs.
I paddled slowly over the next swell in the ocean's surface - and with that, it had come: my moment to shine. I queued that part of the YouTube video in my mind and, following its instruction, I jumped onto my feet, landing beautifully, squarely, on the deck. Perfectly perpendicular to the board. My moment of glory. This was going to be fantastic.
It was then that I noticed a strange tipping to the left of the board. Hmmm. Why was the left side sinking? No matter, I corrected by shifting my weight to the right... and then to the left, and the right again, left, right, left, right... *SPLASH!*
As I rose from beneath the calm ocean waters, I imagined how the entire beach was surely standing on their tippy-toes watching, silently giggling, definitely pointing. Kaela (on the other hand) appeared to have expected this, graciously seeming as though she hadn't seen a thing.
I gripped the board, pulled myself up onto my knees. I had this down. Man, I know how to get onto my knees. Oh, wait.
Anyway, to cut a long story a little shorter, I proceeded to repeat the sequence of standing and falling about 20 times over the next 30 minutes until I eventually relented, perching on my knees, entertaining my host with a million questions about anything that would distract from my apparent lack of sea legs.
Now, it wasn't all bad. Even though I was utterly useless (this time around) it was huge amounts of fun being out at sea, beyond the waves, watching the sun descending. It was peaceful, beautiful, and for these reasons, as our dear Arnie once said, "I'll be back". I'll surely be back.