Prickly Paradise

Let me get straight to the point. There are not too many things as satisfying to me as the sea – its warmth, the salty taste that lays heavily upon the tongue while the glow of the sun toasts the skin golden. I believe these are a few of the many earthly elements that add divinity to life. This said, I think it is important to clarify that the sea, or specifically surfing, has not completely monopolized my existence. It is, however, one eloquent expression of how I choose to enjoy living while on this planet.

There is no question that straddling my stick with the Pacific swells passing underneath is heavenly. Nonetheless, it is only fair that I admit, not all in paradise is painless and perfect.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention that there are thousands of “Blue Bottles” (aka the Portuguese man-of-war) that mercilessly wrap their lengthy, blue, bubbly strands around one’s arms, legs and across the back, causing numerous bands of stinging welts which leave the surfer looking flogged.

And yes, I can tell you with all candor, there have been several times now that the sting rays that lay in the shallows also have had a “point” to make, causing a few surfers to limp back to shore with leashes trailing behind, dragging in the sand.

And if my new purlieu were not prickly enough, just when you think you are safe, you step on one of the hundreds of 2 inch long, spike-covered shells that bespeckle Canoa’s playas. Pretty, but I can tell you from my first-hand experience, painfully piercing!

And yet, when slicing on the edge, feeling the weightlessness delivered by the power beneath, I am reminded that no sting, strike or impaling shall dissuade nor discourage me from life.

And that’s a point worth making.