Can I Learn to Surf in An Hour?

Can someone surf after just a one hour lesson? 

“Well,” says the Internet, “it’s hard to say.”  

The Internet is correct. There are a lot of factors at play – your fitness level, the water conditions, how much time you have, and any prior experience you might have in standing on board-like objects and not showing up in “fail” compilation videos.  That sort of thing.  

Surf Tribe says that in 1-2 lessons you could be standing up.  Boardcave USA  keeps it awfully broad – it could take between one lesson and 1-2 months to surf like a beginner. 

So, optimistically, maybe I could learn to surf in an hour.  Or it could take a few months.  Either way, I’m in El Paredon, the Guatemalan version of “Surf Town USA” — I should try this, right?

But first, let us define surfing. For me.  I hereby declare that surfing shall be “standing up on a surfboard and riding an (ocean) wave for, say, 5 seconds or more”.  That seems reasonable.     

Let’s define me: I am a mid-50s guy in decent shape.  I have reasonable balance and fitness from loads of bike riding, weekly strength workouts, and regular yoga-ish stretching.  Although none of these activities involve balancing on a board.  Nor do I have much muscle and, unfortunately, at 6′ 4′, not a particularly low center of gravity.  My frame is the opposite of a compact, muscular body.  

I will relieve your tension, dear reader, and confess right now that the answer to the question – Can a mid-50s guy in decent shape (but tragically lanky) Learn to Surf in an Hour? The answer is no.  No, he cannot.    

Why not?  

It’s not my teacher’s fault.  I’ll call him Michel because, for the life of me, I can’t now recall his name but that seems close. 

Michel was from Belgium, blonde, maybe 5’10, broad shouldered, possessed of a good surfing body.¹  There was one other student with us, an athletic looking, young woman from Montreal who was still sore from her hour-long surf lesson the previous day.  Not a good sign. 

We were in the black sand beach town of El Paredon, Guatemala, and I had hired Michel from one of the hotels. On the stable sand we first went through the motions of holding the board, kneeling, then standing and various other rules and helpful hints. 

Here’s what I actually learned once I got in the water. Surfing is an incredibly physical activity. And I’m not talking about the riding the wave part (which I didn’t really do anyway).  Staggering around in the ocean wrestling with a 25 lb (or more?), 8 foot long flat object that wind and waves are constantly trying to wrench from your grasp is hard. Heck, I got tired just carrying the board from the hotel to the beach. As if that weren’t enough, if you’re not careful with that object, it can hurt you, especially the 3 narrow fins in the back. The board (and fins) can also seriously hurt other innocent people in the ocean. 

As if maneuvering the board in never-ending wave action weren’t enough, to do the thing (surfing) you’ve got to get yourself in position in front of a good wave (as defined by Michel), jump up and slide on the board on your chest very quickly and smoothly, then paddle really, really hard to catch the wave, then try to boost yourself up to your knees and, eventually, onto your feet. All while trying to remember a half dozen of Michel’s hints and tips.

I’m not ashamed to admit that just the initial jump/slide up on to the board tired me quickly. In fact, within the first half hour, I had already slightly pulled an oblique muscle that has always been susceptible to awkward tugs in a new or wrong direction.

Nevertheless, I was sort of succeeding. Maybe better than the other student who was getting more of Michel’s attention but also getting frustrated. I got some pretty great, pretty fun, long wave rides into the shore — kind of like a boogie board, but faster and more stable.  In the second half of the lesson, I was able to get up and kneel on the board a few times, though I did not stand.  Honestly, the idea of getting my feet under me and rising up on the smooth board moving in the waves seemed unreal to me.  Mentally, I wasn’t even close.  

I had thought about signing up for a 2 hour lesson, but I was actually glad when Michel ended the lesson as we hit the one hour mark. I suppose I could have persisted longer but I had already used up a ton of physical energy.  (Again, this from a guy who happily goes on 4-6 hour bike rides in the mountains).  It would have been better to come back the next day and put in another hour and then maybe an hour the next day.  And again and again until I could stand up and stay there for a few seconds. Hopefully.

Here’s the thing. I’m going to surmise that for a person over 50, many physical feats are no longer realistic.  In other words, the window for learning and excelling at new advanced and/or complex physical activities is, I’m not going to say shut, but it is barely open in many cases. 

William Finnegan, author of the ur-text of a life surfing, Barbarian Days, opines that anyone who didn’t start surfing as a teenager is not ever going to be very good.  That’s a bit harsh, and Finnegan’s definition of “good surfer” might be a high mark, but I think his sentiment is right.²

I’ve no doubt that people over 50 can learn to surf.  I think with sustained effort and work, and in good ocean conditions, I probably could get up on a board and actually surf.  

But the idea of being able to do that on any kind of consistent basis and enjoy it and feel comfortable doing it– well, I think that might be nearly outside the realm of possibility for me. Plus, I don’t live close enough to an ocean.

So, would I do it again? Unlikely. For me, the risk-reward balance isn’t great. Risk a chance of injury and/or strained muscles to try to do something that I can’t really do and therefore can’t enjoy? I’m better off going on a bike ride, hiking, kayaking, or some other physical activity that gives me pleasure and where I have less chance of getting hurt.

Yet I’m happy that I did it. I didn’t actually surf, at least according to my own definition, but I learned about and tried surfing. And I got to do it in a terrific location in the warm Pacific waters off of Central America.

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1. How would it be to exist as a young, blonde, French/English speaking Belgian national hanging out in the Central American sun, teaching tourists to surf?  You could do worse. I mean, Michel is not getting rich and I wouldn’t necessarily trade places with him, but I surmise he is living some version of his best life.  I doubt he ever has trouble finding social companionship.  Eventually, Michel will probably return to northern Europe, start a stable career, and smile as he looks back on his memories of being a surf teacher on the Pacific.  Enjoy it, buddy!
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2. By the way, this book cured me of any romantic notions I had about serious surfing. Finnegan’s lifetime of chasing waves, despite some terrific highlights, sounds borderline horrible to me. Most of the best waves apparently come during the winter months so surfing for him was often seeking out good waves in frigid ocean water. He suffers frequent injuries, his eyesight is comprised from accumulated sun reflection damage, etc. etc. And much of this takes place with a constant background chance of death or severe injury.  There are at least half a dozen incidents in the book where his life was in serious danger — and he was brutally aware of it — because of wave breaks on rocks and reefs, losing daylight, exhaustion, and whatever combination of other factors. And that’s just the instances he talks about in the book.  ↩︎