The one thing Sandbar missed doing while he studied in school was surfing. He opened his bedroom closet when he came home for the summer. It looked exactly the way he left it, a complete mess. His surfboard was in a diagonal position. Sandbar reached forward to pull it out. He struggled, and immediately thought of how easy it was to put it away. Sandbar finally got it out. All it needed was a really good wax job and it’s ready to go.
He rushed out of his house and onto the beach below, trotting down the sandy slope from his little house.
He’d been wanting to go back to the water, to glide on the waves and feel the adrenaline rush flow through his veins. Sandbar picked up his first surfboard when he was five years old. He can never explain how it felt when he chased the waves for the first time. All he knew was that it was the best feeling anyone can have. It’s something most ponies wouldn’t understand until they tried it for themselves, which is why he gave the surfboard to Smolder. She waited for him at the beach.
Smolder is a classmate of his at the School of Friendship. She’s also one of his best friends who just happens to be a dragon. Many of Sandbar’s friends are of another species. After the last day of school they went back to their homes for the summer. Smolder wasn’t quite ready to return to the Dragon Lands, not just yet. Sandbar offered to let her stay at his house for as long as she needed, maybe even the whole summer if she really wanted to.
Sandbar watched his dragon friend as she held the surfboard.
“Pretty cool, huh,” he said.
Smolder turned it sideways, eyeing it from every angle, and ran her claws smoothly on the surface. It was plain-looking, but she liked the shape. She wasn’t a big fan of the color. If it was her own surfboard she’d have a cool design. Smolder had some surfing experience back at the Dragon Lands, but since there weren’t any beaches around she and her older brother slid down flat surfaces of mountains and rock formations and lava on old metal shields. She never surfed on water before.
Smolder remembered one of those silly surfing movies she came across while watching television. The characters talked funny and used words like “dude” and “gnarly” and “cowabunga” all the time and had names like Big Kahuna. The bad guy challenges the hero to a surfing contest, which of course, the hero wins and gets the girl, followed by a ridiculous dance party. At least Sandbar had the courtesy to not sound like a total doofus.
They cleaned the board of any dust it collected from being in the closet, then Sandbar gave it a good wax from top to bottom.
“So what’s with the wax?” asked Smolder.
“It’s to keep from slipping off the board. The waxed surface also provides good traction for your hooves… or in this case, your feet.”
Sandbar stood when he finished waxing. He wrapped one of his front hooves around the surfboard, gazing at the ocean as the waves crashed into the shore. He took in the fresh scent of saltwater into his nose.
“Is there anything I need to know before we start?” Smolder asked.
“The basics, mostly,” answered Sandbar.
And so Surfing 101 began. Smolder found herself in class again, with Sandbar as the teacher, the only difference being she’s the only student learning a subject she actually found interesting. He went in depth as he explained everything from the anatomy of the board, how to handle the surfboard, what to do when she goes into the water, the proper way to stand, how to control her speed and have good leverage. He gave physical examples using the board, pretending the sand is the ocean.
Smolder grabbed the surfboard from Sandbar, feeling she knew enough to begin. Sandbar stopped her before she advanced forward to the water. He strapped the surfboard leash on her ankle.
“I almost forgot,” he said. “It’s to prevent the board from being swept away. Which reminds me - you’re going to surf on the beginner waves, so I’m going to put you close to the shore.”
Smolder looked at him like he had said something offensive. Making her practice on the smaller waves was like having arm floats while learning to fly, which was what her brother Garble did as a dumb joke.
“Yeah… that ain’t happening,” she said.
Sandbar was going to explain the importance of practicing on the smaller waves so she can work her way to the bigger ones in time, but she already made a dash to the water. She lay herself flat on the board and used her arms to paddle, although she found it difficult to maintain balance. Either she was too close to the nose that the board went in the water, or she was too far off the nose flipped upward. She heard Sandbar calling to her, possibly telling her what to do. The waves obscured his voice.
“I know what I’m doing,” she said to herself.
Smolder gave up trying to find balance. Slipped to the back to hold the board in her hands, then used her legs to peddle. Now she’s far off from the shore. Hopping back on the board, she pushed herself through medium-sized waves. She made a lookout for the biggest one she can find.
She found one. A wave at least 15 feet high. She kept paddling and paddling until she caught it, then with quick movements she pushed herself up, wobbling, flailing her arms to keep herself upright. The wave overpowered her and knocked Smolder off the board. She held onto the board when she emerged from under the water. No big deal. She’ll catch the next one.
After wipeout after wipeout, Smolder refused to give up. When the wave knocked her down, she climbed on the board to make another attempt. She forgot about trying to prove to Sandbar she didn’t need to practice on the smaller waves. She wanted to conquer this wave, this behemoth made of ocean water no matter how many times she tried, no matter how many times the wave knocked her off her feet. That’s the thing about dragons most ponies just couldn’t understand. She’s never known a dragon in her life who gave up on something. When they’re faced with a challenge they don’t let it beat them. It’s always the other way around. Dragons beat it to submission.
Smolder wasn’t going to let waves beat her. She swam her way to another one, turning her board the opposite direction, paddling forward while gaining momentum. “You can’t beat me,” she said. “I’m a dragon!” Quickly she stood upright, bending her knees and stretching her arms, riding the rising wall of water for more than a few seconds. Smolder finally tamed the wave. Nothing can ever stop the iron will of a dragon. “Take that, you stupid wave,” she said proudly.
As if the wave had heard her insult, an avalanche of white foam fell over Smolder, once again making her tumble off the board, sending her splashing into the water. She wanted to keep at it, to not let the wave have its victory, but Smolder couldn’t muster up the energy to continue. After hanging on to the surfboard for a moment she paddled back to shore. This is what Sandbar calls a wipeout. Smolder forgot she had wings, although she stopped caring.
The young dragon returned to the beach with a sullen look on her face. She dropped to her knees, trying to catch her breath. To her surprise Sandbar kept his good-natured attitude, even congratulating her on her performance.
“For a first-timer you were pretty good,” he said. “You still need a bit more practice, though. Riding those waves can be tough.”
“You don’t know what tough is,” Smolder said between breaths. “I had that wave.”
Sandbar nodded. He opened up a cooler he brought with him, and tossed an ice cold can of cola to Smolder, who drank the entire can in fifteen seconds. They watched the waves together in silence. Sandbar thought about talking to Smolder more about surfing, and what it’s all about, at least to him. She still had that disappointed look on her face, like she lost a game. He recognized it from their time as classmates when Rainbow Dash taught a lesson on sportsmanship, when Smolder’s team lost a game of buckball.
He has seen it on other surfers, too, when they try to put in the effort to catch waves; not just on beginners, but veterans, especially during competitions. They see the wave as an obstacle to overcome, a challenge they have to endure for the moment so they can reach the end. Those surfers want to tame the wave, to conquer it, to beat it instead of going with the flow.
It’s not supposed to be like that. Riding the wave is an experience that borders on the spiritual. There was not a thing in Equestria that made Sandbar feel so alive than gliding and dashing through the blue wall of ocean, feeling weightlessness and a sense of freedom, like a bird or a pegasus taking flight. He never forgot his first time on a surfboard. He was young, five years old, and already at that time he felt his body and soul connecting to the spirit that flowed through the water. It changed his life forever. He got his cutie mark that day.
“Yo Sandy,” Smolder said. She looked to see if he had that annoyed look on his face. She liked calling him Sandy just to get a reaction from him. It’s a nickname she gave him during school, and it stuck with everyone, even most of the teachers.
Her halfhearted smile turned into a frown. “Be honest... I sucked out there, didn’t I?” She really wanted to know.
“You tried your best. You just need to practice some more. And maybe not get frustrated when you fall in the water,” he added hesitantly.
Smolder shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a dragon. We can’t handle our egos taking a hit. I don’t know what I was trying to prove out there.”
“There’s no shame in starting out at level one. Think about your favorite athlete, or artist, or whoever. They had to start somewhere. Nopony is born knowing how to do everything. Some really great surfers I know started out getting wipeouts, and they kept going.”
“What great surfers do you know?” asked Smolder.
Sandbar smiled, opting not to say anything. He hoped they’ll leave the topic at that until Smolder stood, holding the surfboard.
“Okay wiseguy, since you think you’re so cool, let’s see your moves.”
Sandbar retrieved the board from her. She gave him a little smile, one of fondness, and he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. Smolder hit him on one of his front limbs, and he laughed some more. So did she.
He cleaned the board and gave it another wax. He told Smolder to him closely as he took off, and he trotted to the water until his limbs were submerged, then dived and paddled forward. He turned his board around when he found the perfect wave, paddling and paddling until the wave caught him. That’s how it’s supposed to be done. That wonderful feeling washed over him again, along with the water. If he were to describe this feeling, he’d say it’s like being one with the universe.