Of wax and distant waves

Of Wax and Distant Waves
There is a partially used bar of wax in my car. The cooler weather has kept it from ending up as pool of muck in my drink holder although with the current state of my surf heap, it wouldn’t matter much if it did melt. I find myself sticking the tacky white chunk to my nose and breathing in deep. Hours later I will still be able to feel the wax on my fingers and smell the familiar tropical scent that can put me on a top of a board on a pretty left no matter where I happen to be at that moment.
Speaking of which, for the second time in just a few short weeks I find myself on the road and far away from good surf. A good friend said not to worry, that if the waves were good they would comfort me by saying that it was flat. Thanks, really, I mean it… unfortunately they can’t email me with this little white lie because it turns out to be chest high and clean and they are all too busy collecting memories for their “you should have been here yesterday” stories. From 250 miles inland I watched the reports and updates all day, all week, the surf was shaping up nicely and of course there I was , the closest body of water- a muddy brown lake.
The next trip away was to honor the passing of my grandfather. Interestingly, he didn’t swim. He told me about an incident that had put fear into him as a young boy. I think it was probably the only thing he was afraid of actually. When I was much younger he would join us at the beach and he would walk up and down the ocean’s edge and had an uncanny ability to spot sharks teeth. It was pointed by another good friend that ancient Germanic tribes attributed the ocean as the place our souls come from and return to, so this meshed well with my thoughts of my strong German decent Grandfather. He was good with his hands… fixing things, doing woodwork, tending gardens; Utilitarian and creative all at once. I am just now seeing similar elements in myself with a new appreciation. Maybe I can reign in some of his spirit as I shape a new board. Anyway, if you are having a particularly good day of big, shapely swell…. You are welcome, because I must be out of town.
As simple as wax is, it’s much too under appreciated. Knowing how frustrating it is to need it and not have it, I recall scraping some off my board with a shell to let a fellow surfer get that little bit of grip to get through the day. And who hasn’t tossed a little nub of wax to another in need, all in the name of good surf karma. The variations on technique for applying wax are interesting too. I just have to learn to do that sunburst spiral thing before its time to put on the summer wax. There are a ridiculous number of surf wax brands once you do a little research. There is a surf wax collection online that just boggled my mind. I was taught to use lots of wax and put it all over and I still do this. Putting new wax on a clean board is something I really enjoy, and actually stripping it off is pretty satisfying to me. I run my hand up and down the smooth deck looking for cracks and bumps and remember that this is how that board originally looked. This summer a family friend met us at the beach and brought an old beater thruster from the 80’s…it was all original...including the wax. It was so old and dirty I wondered if it was some secret pine tar recipe. Surf wax is also a convenient excuse to walk into a surf shop. I have bought wax in every shop I know of in the area as the drawer in my utility room demonstrates. Sex Wax, the old standard is still probably my preference as long as it’s the white pineapple variety, but I use others too including one with little color coded flecks so you can tell if it’s warm or cold water wax- pure genius. Drop by your favorite shop, grab some wax for your stick, and maybe an extra bar for your desk at work or school or and you will never be too far from those distant waves.
See you in the water.
Drop me a line at writteninwax@gmail.com with comments, complaints, cool surfing pics, salsa recipes or for no reason at all.