The Windsurfer

A summer window view

I see the windsurfer out our dining room window. But he has already crashed. He is a long way out from the beach at Lahinch. I don’t know if it is a guy, but I suspect it is.

Seen him a few times. Could be different guys but I never get to see the sail for long enough to remember it.

In another life, I tried windsurfing when my then-boyfriend in the 1990s was a very keen windsurfer. We used to drive out from the D.C. area to Bethany Beach in Delaware. It is south of Rehobeth Beach, a much more posh place.

We were youngish so Bethany was just perfect for us and our budget. The bayside waters near Bethany Beach are calm and very shallow. Perfect for a beginner to learn how to get up on the board. My friend Michael had many boards and the longboards are what you need to learn on.

Michael was very patient in teaching me how to get up on the board — it might have been 12 feet long. It floats very easily and is good in light wind. The longboards have a dagggerboard or a central fin to help it stay stable.

But the board Michael sailed on was a short board. Probably about 9 feet. It took me a whole summer to be able to even get up on his shortboard. He would sail out far from the shore and not come back for a long time. He was using a harness and he loved what he called “nuclear” wind.

There is a lot to know about the gear and the technique. I learned a tiny bit about both. Enough to get up on the board, sail out far enough that I could still see the coastline and be able to tack. A clean tack is not easy unless you are very skilled. That is probably why the guy out in Liscannor Bay crashed and disappeared.

The tack on a surfboard can be an elusive maneuver and is very challenging. Just being able to accomplish that was a huge thrill for me. I did not care about much else because I cared mostly about being able to get back to the beach that I sailed from.

If you have strong current that can be a huge factor. It is not like you could call on your cell phone (you don’t have one when you are out on the water on a surfboard— well, maybe you do now but I don’t know — at my advanced age in the year 2026), and say “Hey, I don’t know where I am but come get me.”

I stuck with it long enough to buy my own boom. My hands are very small and my boyfriend’s big boom was hard for me to hold onto for very long, which tired me out very fast.

It took me a long time to work that out. It wasn’t until we went to the Outer Banks in North Carolina one weekend and pulled up to a house designed specifically for windsurfers. It was around midnight. Everyone was asleep. When we got inside I saw a boom lying on the floor. I picked it up and when I held it in my hand I understood instantly something very significant. No wonder I was struggling so much and tired so easily.

I immediate bought a similar one. It was a Chinook.

Life by the water’s edge

Being by the water’s edge here in Liscannor provides a lot of entertainment. The local fishing boats go out from Liscannor Harbor every day and head far out to the Atlantic Ocean. When they return, they check their lobster pots, which are visible from our dining/living room.

We also see the occasional sailboat that will anchor in Liscannor Bay, on the way from somewhere to somewhere else. It might arrive in the evening and be gone in the morning before we get up and have our breakfast. However, once we did see it raise a very big colorful sail and head back out to the Atlantic.

Without fail, the tide comes in and the tide goes out. Sometimes the wind is fierce and there are white caps on the sea. Other times it is calm and the water is deep blue. That is ideal, of course. But often a fog rolls in and the marine layer does not lift for a long time. There is a certain serenity in this nothingness.

Then the rain shows up, which makes the farmers happy but the golfers not so much.

That is life by the water’s edge.