CATCHIN' WAVES, SITTIN' ON TOP OF THE WORLD
HANNAH SAMPSON, hsampson@herald.com

Face it. Surfers are way cooler than the rest of us.

Surf teacher Kali "Da Big Kahuna" Montero demonstrates last-minute moves to novice surfers at Deerfield Beach. MARIANNE ARMSHAW/FOR THE HERALD

Samantha Petree, 11, is not afraid to try the greatest sport around. MARIANNE ARMSHAW/FOR THE HERALD

They have surf music (Beach Boys, Jack Johnson); movies (Blue Crush, Endless Summer), clothes (board shorts, flip-flops) and lingo (kickin'!). Unfortunately, surfing also takes a little bit of skill, which I happen to lack, despite my devotion to sandals and palm trees.

I decided it wasn't enough to wear the clothes, listen to the music and watch the movies. I would simply have to learn to surf.

This is how I came to find myself waking up at 5:30 a.m. on a recent Saturday, fumbling for a towel and sunblock, driving north into the fuzzy early-morning light.

Destination: Island Water Sports in Deerfield Beach, where surf lessons are free every Saturday morning.

The parking lot outside the store is full, with people clutching towels and, in the case of several bleary-eyed parents, coffee. Soon we're told to form groups of three so we can share a limited number of mammoth foam surfboards.

My teammates are brother and sister Chris and Samantha Petree, 18 and 11 respectively. This is their first surfing endeavor as well.

Everyone hikes the couple of blocks to the beach, forming an unwieldy procession of wannabe surfers lugging heavy boards. We drop our stuff on the sand next to the Deerfield Beach International Fishing Pier.

The sun is starting to warm the air, the waves reflect the yellow light and I think that it might just be better to curl up on the sand in my beach towel and watch everyone else learn to surf.

Luckily, my steely resolve to be cool takes over and I persevere.

We hear a short message about safety - make sure you can swim before you try to surf, always surf with a buddy, never go out in dangerous conditions. Oh, and watch for sea pests, especially Portuguese man-of-war, which have apparently been spotted on this beach today. This is not encouraging.

The lesson begins.
Kali "da Big Kahuna" Montero - a surf instructor for 33 years, first in Hawaii and now in South Florida - has given the free lessons since 1996. Montero also gives private lessons, but makes a living in real estate. He said 250 people a week come for the Saturday free sessions in the summer; winter brings about 100 a week.

No one gravitates to South Florida for the surfing conditions; typically the ocean is pretty flat. The day of my lesson, I'm told the waves are less than knee-high.

Later, on the phone, I ask Montero what it is about surfing that draws so many people to the sport.

"Just the feeling of coming down the wave and riding the waves... It's something you can't buy," he says. "It's just a feeling of freedom."

But to experience that feeling, one must first get in the water. First, Montero has all new surfers put their boards on the sand and he explains the basics about types of surfboards and the parts of a board.

Everyone takes turns lying on the board and practicing the allegedly smooth motion of moving from the chest-down to the standing-upright position. Montero shows how to make the board go left or right once you stand up. I think that I probably will not need this information, as it is looking highly unlikely I will manage to even stay on the board in a prone position.

After this primer, my brave teammate Samantha declares: "I wanna go surf!"

It turns out that even getting to a place where you can surf is difficult. You paddle out into the water, fighting waves that push you back where you started.

I lose my balance while lying on the board, fall into the water, pop back on and try again. I am exhausted after only a couple of tries. Several children around me are riding the waves like they've been doing it forever, which only drives the humiliation deeper.

Second time around is better. My teammates swim out with me. Chris says he will watch the waves and let me know when to start paddling for shore and when to stand. This turns out to be a fabulous idea.

"Paddle," he tells me when a good wave comes up, and I do. The back of the board is lifted by the water, just like da Big Kahuna said it would. "Stand up!" Chris says.

Somehow I manage to stand - don't ask how - and I am surfing. I am one with the ocean, flying toward shore, hurtling down a roller coaster of salt water. I lift my hands in victory.

And then I fall off. Dramatically. I couldn't have been standing for more than a few seconds. But it doesn't matter. For those exhilarating moments, I, too, was cool.

Jump Start is a bimonthly feature about trying something new. Send ideas to weekend@herald.com

End of Article

First-time surfer Hannah Sampson, a Herald reporter, lives the excitement. MARIANNE ARMSHAW/FOR THE HERALD	With the Deerfield Beach pier in the background, official surfer chick Hannah Sampson carries her board back to the shore. MARIANNE ARMSHAW/FOR THE HERALD
Hannah Sampson hauls herself onto a surfboard. MARIANNE ARMSHAW/FOR THE HERALD