My first day surfing in Costa Rica—I’m up and flying down the biggest wave I have ever ridden. The locals consider this flat, but these clean waves impressed us Floridians with their size and power. I never asked how big they were. But there we were—surf camp in Dominical, Costa Rica.
As a newer surfer, I assumed both that I would use a soft-top board and that I would surf in the whitewater, or broken waves. No to both. I was nervous and excited that I would be paddling out to the green waves on a hard board. The waves of Dominicalito, a protected cove, are ideal for beginners and intermediates. Ami Berg, owner of Central Florida Women Surfing, coordinated our trip with Debbie Zec, owner of the Dominical Surf School and herself a Dominical native.
Everyone improved over our 5 days of surf lessons. I was impressed by the level of instruction, both the on-water feedback and the video analysis. My goals: getting up faster and initiating turns. Each day, I focused on the pointers Gonza, my primary instructor, offered and watched the others. In the evening, we brainstormed with Ami and did the surf dance—the twist, compression and extension that help turn the board. Land practice helps because everything in the durf happens quickly. The ocean gives instant feedback.
Surf and surf culture has long fascinated me, but I wondered if my window hadn’t closed. I had kayak surfed and SUP surfed and had my eye out for an opportunity to try board surf. About 2 years ago, I booked a beginner lesson with Ami at Central Florida Women Surfing in Daytona Beach. It was a windy, choppy day, and the paddle nearly killed me, but I was hooked.
I came back again and again, a senior grom, a term usually applied to children learning to surf. I also discovered the Wahine Kai Surf Club, St Augustine chapter, and met Beth Masters of Salty Sistahs Surf School. Through these groups, I made friends, developed skills, and learned how not to be a kook, a derogatory term for one who violates surf norms. Surfing is great, but these friends and communities have made it so much richer.
I obsessed over surf videos on Instagram and read whatever I could as I tried to suck less at surf. In her book (It’s great to) Suck at Something The Unexpected Joy of Wiping Out and What It Can Teach Us About Patience, Resilience and the Stuff That Really Matters Karen Rinaldi uses surfing and guitar (another skill I am working to suck at) to explores the benefits of sucking at new skills. Further, she notes, the public nature of surf promotes humility and the ability to laugh at yourself. Some say that the best surfer is the one having the most fun. I’ve never walked out of the ocean without smiling.
Our surf sessions were exhilarating but exhausting. Paddling out through the break is harder than simply jumping on the board and riding whitewater, but so much more fun. I was often out of breath when I reached the outside, but I learned to time the waves and turtle-rolled when a set rolled through. The clean, well-timed sets are unlike Florida’s generally messy conditions, and I experimented with smaller and more performance-oriented boards. Nonetheless, my first post-trip surf session in St. Augustine was a reality check—washing machine conditions and a wetsuit. But so fun.
After surf, we returned to our hotel Villas Rio Mar, floated in the hotel pools, and explored Dominical. The dirt road into Dominical ran along the Rio Baru which, we were assured, had no crocodiles. Local families swam in the river so we felt safe swimming across the river to use the rope swing. Dominical maintains the feel of a small fishing village, and the residents are working to preserve that vibe. Monkeys and iguanas roamed freely, and toucans flew overhead, literally a tropical paradise.
Over the week, we did yoga, had massages, hiked to a waterfall, and wandered the town. This time gave us the luxury of extended conversations, and we talked about our lives, jobs, and relationships, and, of course, surf. Our group bonded, and I left with real friends, a real benefit of a trip like this. Our grand finale— a sunset bonfire on Dominical Beach where surfers shred massive waves far beyond my comfort level.
I don’t know where this surf journey will lead, and I never imagined it would bring me here. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without the friends I’ve made. So I’ll hang on for the ride and trust that friends, new places, and a return to Dominical will follow. And next time, I expect to see a sloth in the wild.
Florida Waterscapes 