The abuse started early. A couple of the teenagers handed me a note which read: “Excuses: 1. There is no sea in Offaly.
2. Two sore knees, one of them very bad. 3.
The waves are too big/too small. 4. This board is useless.
” The last time I had tried to surf was in Clare. The instructor was a patient man. He quickly realised the limitations of the talent he was working with.
He duly went about the whole thing with unfailing good humour. And no little slagging. By the end of the first half-hour, he had nicknamed me “Hawaii”.
You can imagine the tone of it for yourself. For the rest of the week, he’d shout: “Nearly Hawaii, Nearly!” Nearly never stood on a surfboard. Subscribe today Offer available on annual digital subscriptions only.
Ts&Cs apply. Hang On. Get a FREE €50 Intersport Elverys Gift Card with an Irish Examiner annual subscription Subscribe today All around me kids of all ages were making out like they’d been born beside the sands of Waikiki Beach.
It looked like great fun. I couldn’t wait to stand up alongside them. Unfortunately, God may love a trier, but there are some things that no amount of effort and desire can overcome.
Nonetheless, my instructor never flagged in his amused encouragement (or in his irony). On the Thursday or the Friday (the days swam one into the next), he shouted: “Good man Hawaii! You’re flying. You’ll be out in the carpark next if you’re not careful”.
The only way I’d have made it out into the carpark is if I.