It was a good day.
I had made great strides, finally standing up on my third go at the white wash. I never thought that standing on a board would make me feel so powerful, but there I was, riding over the world on a current.
I even learned how to wax my board.
I would have many more successes that day, paddling into a few sets and revisiting the harmony of being pushed by the waves. I probably looked like the biggest goon, but I felt like a badass. Holly high-fived me, almost as stoked as I was about what a day I’d had.
It was a good day. So, clearly, something had to go wrong.
I bounced and skipped over the sand on the way back to El Coco Loco. I had my O’Neill rashgaurd draped over my arm, having opted to run around in my bikini for a victory lap on the beach after our session. I was engrossed with a conversation with Jen (as usual) and was gesticulating too much (as usual) and as blonds often do, not paying attention.
It wasn’t until I got back to my cabana that I realized I was no longer holding my rashgaurd. I swore and ran back to the beach (you know, as fast as you can run in flip-flops on sand).
A herd of cattle was hanging out by the point break. I asked them if they had seen my rashgaurd, or if one of them had stolen it while I had been snapping photos. They stared at me, like cattle do. I was happy there were no locals around to witness this insanity. I continued on my search.
Because this is me we’re talking about, I managed to drop my rashgaurd on the beach during high-tide. I waded through the water since there was no beach to walk on. I hoped that in my excitement I had made a big enough hand gesture to propel it into one of the tree branches. No such luck.
I rationalized that since the ocean had been so generous that morning, it was merely completing the karmic cycle and taking what it thought I needed to return for my kick ass morning. My Purple People Eater rashgaurd had been swallowed by the waves as payment. I wandered back to El Coco Loco empty-handed and mopey.
Holly was nice enough to let me borrow one of her rashgaurds for the rest of the week. I thought that it was fitting that the pink and white rashgaurd she gave me endorsed a company called Smart Girls Who Surf.
I would come to find out that not only does this company make an awesome rashgaurd, but that they also sell eco-friendly bath, body and sunscreen products. Smart Girls Who Surf encourages smart sun practices and using sunscreens that aren’t harmful to the reefs. A cause I can get behind, indeed.
Who would have thought that such a great find would have come out of my stupidity?
Holly would end up letting me keep the rashgaurd as a souvenir.
I’d like to think that somewhere in Nicaragua, a local villager (or maybe a mermaid) is sporting my abandoned O’Neill rashgaurd, looking oh-so-purple and fabulous.