The Tour

fourteen / that's my girl

The warm breeze did nothing to dry out my soaked hair. The waves had been absolutely pumping for the semifinal heats, and I had been catching waves and diving under them at an insane rate. My hair had no time to dry in between waves because there simply was no time.

    We were only five minutes into the semifinal heat. It was the first heat of the day, after only the quarterfinals were surfed yesterday due to inclement weather. Things had been going well so far; I had lost in the first round that determined seeding, but had successfully dug my way back heat after heat.

The current heat would be tough, but I was feeling confident in the water. I paddled hard for a wave that everyone else had passed by, taking a few quick strokes before popping up onto the board. After two wide turns I managed to stall and make my way into a small section of tube. While the waves were shaping up nicely for getting tubed today, any cover that I could get would boost my score, so I would take everything that I got.

My board dipped smoothly beneath the incoming wave as I duck dived below an incoming wave, allowing for a moment of peace before I would resurface. Opening my eyes gave me a glimpse at the ocean floor, and I had to rip my mind away from thinking about Will's accident.

Things got easier once I was back above the waves, analyzing my competitor's movements. They were catching plenty, but I had managed to steal a couple of the biggest waves of the day, so they weren't able to showcase their more powerful moves.

Twenty five minutes in had me at the top of the leaderboard, but with last-place in priority. That meant that the other three girls had a chance at any wave that they wanted before I did, which led to a bit of a waiting game.

I picked one out on the horizon and worked my way into a position to catch it, but just  as I was beginning to paddle one of the surfers from Brazil showed up on the inside of the wave. Forced to yield priority to her, I turned back out into the lineup.

    The call from the beach came a few minutes later, announcing that she had earned a 5.65. "What a waste of a wave," I thought to myself.

    The announcer began to give the thirty second warning, and I snagged a wave that was on it's way in. Performing a few quick turns and a modest air, I laid down on my stomach and let the wave take my in, pumping my fist to get the crowd excited. The next heat was the final, and I could use as much momentum as I could get.

    Cheers from the crowd and pats on the back carried me up to the usual Ripcurl pavilion where I met Coach John. "Good job, kid," he praised, "just do the same thing next round."

    "I pay you how much for feedback like that?" I asked him with a smile.

    "Too much, that's for sure. You have twenty minutes until you're back out there."

    I nodded and glanced around, "Have you seen my phone?"

    "Nope, and you're not getting it. You have bigger things to be worried about right now, like your job. Will is perfectly fine, I would have heard from your dad if he wasn't."

    Guilt seeped into my expression. "I'm sorry, it's just that it's been six days being away makes me nervous," I relented.

    "You're not his mother River, and he's doing just fine. What we all need you to do is grab something to eat if you need it, and get back to your visualization."

    I retreated into the tent area to grab one of the bars that my sponsors provided me with. After downing it I returned to the beach, analyzing the waves before closing my eyes and picturing myself surfing them.

    Ten minutes later, I was back in the water and paddling after the veteran surfer from Maui who dominated this event annually. It was no surprise that she had made the final, which relieved some of the pressure on my end.