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I watch her stand up. She does it without falling in.
“Practice various strokes. When you hit a small wave, use your back foot to raise the nose of your board slightly. Just keep practicing the movements.”
We spend the next hour working on her technique. She only falls in the water twice. Both times, she fought it and then had to get back on her board.
“We’re ready to have the boat take us in and try coming in from the sand.”
She presses her lips together. “I’m exhausted. Maybe we should work on other skills I need?”
I slice through the water and get closer to her. “You’re doing well.”
She keeps paddling. “I didn’t want to fall in. I don’t know what happened.”
I slow slightly to let her keep up. “We have to conquer the surf. But you’ll fall in a few times before you get the hang of it.”
“I might be too sore later to be adventurous.”
My mind goes to that place. She is a distraction. Instead of solely focusing on water sports, I keep imagining what I want to do with her when we’re alone. My chest tightens, and I try to push away thoughts of her naked and willing beneath me.
“Come on.” I paddle back to the boat.
Within an hour, we are standing on a remote beach with the boat tied off on a mooring ball a short distance away.
“This is daunting.” She looks out at the three-to-four-feet waves breaking near shore.
I pick up my board. “You’ve got this. You have the skills. I’d suggest starting on your belly if the waves were more intense. But you can either kneel or stand in these waves. Be careful of your stance, keep the nose of the board over the foam, and paddle with solid, smooth strokes towards the front of your board.”
I head out and give her time to decide how she’ll proceed. I climb onto my board in a few feet of water and paddle through the surf. I catch a bigger break and ride the wave, keeping a sensible distance from her.
She tries a few times to get through the surf with her board and tumbles before making it.
When she makes it out to the open water, I yell, “Good job.”
I look back to the beach. It’s maybe a hundred yards away. I paddle over to her. “The challenge is different now. You’re in calm water and need to be patient. Stand up and stay flexible. Just enjoy the ride back.”
I keep a safe distance and ride several waves in. She isn’t managing to ride a wave in yet. Instead of intervening, I let her struggle through it for a while. She has good athletic ability, but navigating the surf is proving elusive.
After nearly an hour, I paddle closer to her. “It takes hours of practice. Don’t give up.”
Her hair looks messy, and she is out of breath. “I want to give up.”
I sit, straddling my board. “You might need to relax and let it happen. Trying to force it won’t work. Get on your knees and when you see the wave building, stand and start paddling.”
I watch her look over her shoulder while kneeling.
“Don’t force it. Let the water take you.”
After a few more attempts, she rides a wave in. I can feel my lungs expand. I’m proud of her, which is a little insane. She’s learning to paddleboard in the ocean—I shouldn’t feel so much ownership, but I want her to be happy.
We spend another hour riding the waves; I can tell she has figured it out. When the sun gets lower, I wait on the beach for her. As I watch from the sand, I can tell she has good form and understands the physics behind the surf.
She's smiling and out of breath when she joins me on the beach, carrying her board and paddle.
“Did you see that last one?”
“I did. You’re amazing.” I lean in and kiss her mouth briefly.
She smiles. “Would you hire me?”
