a theater person even then,
is paddle.”
their right foot out front as a
and if I’d learned anything
So, six-year-old me lay
“goofy foot.” That was me. Ol’
from my fear of getting out
my forehead down on the
Goofy-Foot Wilhoite, six years
in front of people, it was that
surfboard, took a big whiff of
old, gliding along with the
“The only way through it,
the coconut surf wax, arched
flow of the wave. I was doing
is to do it.” I’d watched my
my back, and giggled. The
it. I was surfing like a badass.
older siblings surf all my
clouds had separated. Sunlight
“Dad!” I called out. “I’m like
life. It was my turn now. I
beamed down on me. The
you! Whoo-hoo!” I rode that
threw caution to the wind and
water was glassy and sparkled
wave for five whole seconds,
followed him, high-stepping
jewels out by the oil derricks.
an eternity in wave-riding
into the whitewater. Clumps
A few pelicans dive-bombed
time, then jumped off. The
of seaweed slid by my legs in
for fish. I paddled over to
board drifted onto the beach. I
the tide.
Dad. He grabbed the tip of the
had a giggle fit in celebration,
board and pulled me around
pumping my fists in the air,
he said, which meant a big
until I faced the shore. I sat
shaking my own hand over my
set was brewing. I looked
up and swirled my feet in
head in victory.
out and just saw an expanse
the water just like I’d seen
of undulating water. I dove
him do. “All right, Katza,” he
“There’s an outside swell,”
through a smaller wave. It was said. “I’m going to push you
“All right. Let’s do it again.
Get the board,” he said.
I grabbed the skeg and
calm and quiet on the other
out. Stand up as soon as you
pulled it back out. A wave
side. He gave the long board
start to glide.” I snapped to
had just rolled in, so there
a good shove. It glided right
attention. He grabbed the tail,
was a long, safe stretch for
to me. I knew I was going to
pulling it back against the flow
me to ge