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“Sure.” It’s a white lie. “This is my dream.” My smile splits my face as I tell her.
And now, thanks to Finnan, I could see this turning into a career.
We say a quick goodbye, and I hang up. Finnan, Archie, and Bear drag me from the phone box in the lobby at the hostel we’re staying in. “Time to celebrate, Baby Surfer. Beers are on you.”
“On us. You’re in this just like me,” I counter.
“Ahh, yes. But you, my friend, are the golden child. The one who stumbled into this life and could be a legend.” He puts his arm around my neck and squeezes.
“Give over.” I shove him off me.
“We’re in this together, but you’re the one to watch, Baby Surfer.”
“So, we have the schedule. We have the competitions to head to. Does that mean we don’t get to ride or surf big waves?” I ask.
“Nope. It just means we plan a bit more. We can never stay and surf big all the time. They are fickle and depend on the weather and swell, anyway. Mavericks will simmer down in a day or so. It’s the same for any other wave destination. I thought I told you that when we first met.” He looks at me as if I’m back to being dumb again. “So, we work, keep Sanderson happy, make our money, and make the sponsors happy until we have the cash to dictate when and where we surf ourselves.” Finnan claps his hands together like it’s a done deal, and we all cheer.
CHAPTER20
JAYCE
Then
The next few months are crazy.
The four of us travel, surf, train, and compete. Finnan and I start getting some results in heats and qualifications, which leads to more surfing. I apply a laser focus to everything I do and look at each wave as the goal. Nothing beyond that. Just conquer this next wave and stay on my board.
And it works.
It’s the life I wanted, and now I have three friends who share the same dream I have—that nobody back home could understand and thought I was crazy for travelling the world to achieve.
Well, now I’m being paid to do it.
Paid to surf.
Paid to do something I love.
Months turn into years, and Finnan and I are both surfing the World Surfing League, competing around the world, and making rank against the names I’ve read about. Finnan and I often compete against each other, but there’s never any animosity. We’re brothers, and we have each other’s backs.
But the dedication we’ve had to demonstrate to reach this point means the pursuit of big surf has taken a back seat. We get to charge about once a year or so away from the tour, but it’s sporadic like the breaks themselves.
It’s not like some of the waves at the WSL events aren’t big, they are, compared to back home or an average beach. But they aren’t regularly forty or fifty feet. They don’t fill you with awe and dread at the same time. They don’t demonstrate the sheer power and capability of Mother Nature.
That’s what we still want. And that’s what the next stage of the plan needs to focus on.
Mr Sanderson is good to his word and our contract. We perform, we win, and we can negotiate bigger and better deals. More sponsors—influential sponsors, magazines, and interviews—it’s a life I could never have imagined.
Hostels become hotels, and I no longer have to worry about money. Hell, the only thing to worry about now is staying fit, healthy, and the next heat or qualifier in front of me.
But that’s in Hawaii, and Finnan and I have been tracking a huge swell coming in. On Maui’s north shore, Jaws is set to go off, and we have to be there.
The schedule is tight, but we can surf our round and have time to travel to where we want to be—one of the most dangerous waves on the planet—and on the list Finnan and I made to conquer together.
We arrive on Maui with Archie and Bear and set ourselves up for the swells coming in. You can’t just pick your board and surf here. We need to prep and gear up so we don’t kill ourselves. But it seems like every other thrill-seeking surfer had been keeping an eye on the weather, and the place is packed with others wanting a bite at the waves.
“Nervous?” Finnan asks as I pull on my wetsuit.
“Of course. You?”
