In the 1991 surf-heist movie Point Break, Keanu Reeves learns how to ride waves in a day. My own experience is a little different. On my first attempt, I banana-skid backwards off my board, catapult into the foam, and swallow about a pint of brine. Next, I dive face-first into the waves; a process known as “pearling.” The phrase sounds almost glamorous when my teacher, Mary Osborne, says it. But I can assure you it is not.
A professional long-boarder for over twenty years, Osborne lives for adventure. She’s surfed the Silver Dragon tidal bore in China; led humanitarian missions to El Salvador; and joined environmental scientists on a 15,000-mile research cruise from Brazil to South Africa. She also happens to be married to Mel Gibson’s stunt double, Lance Gilbert. (“He proposed to me in a helicopter. He was down on one knee, suspended on a rope, hanging a hundred meters above the ocean.”)
All this burly bravado is making me feel a little intimidated. After all, I’m here in Ventura, California, with my two teenage sons to learn the basics, and we all have beginners’ nerves. Of course, Osborne is uniquely qualified for the job. Not only has she won the Malibu Surf Championships, she has decades of experience teaching teens—both here in Ventura, and at her Teen Giveback Escapes in Costa Rica and Panama. These week-long camps include daily surf lessons, as well as time spent helping out at local schools and orphanages.
My sons and I may not be ready for Panamanian tube-riding just yet, but we’re keen to get started. Our first lesson is on Solimar Beach. The waves here are relatively small and gentle: the perfect spot for rookies like us. “This is where I grew up,” Osborne says, as we squeeze into our wetsuits. “We get swells from Mexico, from Alaska, from Hawai’i. Ventura has very consistent surf all year round.”
After a quick demo on how to “pop up” on our boards, we paddle out into the waves. Unlike Dad, the boys are naturals. By the end of the hour-long lesson, they’re both standing up and maneuvering from side to side. Watching them with a confusing mix of envy and pride, I’m beginning to suspect I’m a hopeless case.
