“He tried it again and it was the same. So he thought… I will try it once again.”
–The Old Man in The Sea
When was the last time you heard of a young teen befriending a middle-aged man while bodysurfing in the ocean?
A few summers ago (and every summer since then), I spent my days bodysurfing. Eventually, I noticed a pattern. A sun-tanned, gray-haired man would appear in the break every afternoon. Day after day, the pattern continued—same time and same place, no matter the wave conditions. I, in my signature red Birdwell bathing suit. He, in his retro, navy blue swim shorts, not unlike my similarly old-school Birdwell. We both wore suits that allowed us to catch better waves.
When I first began to notice this wave-worn man—the only other regular at my beach—I tried to match his long rides. He usually said nothing to me, so I did likewise. After a few weeks, he told me “Good ride” after I caught a particularly good wave, but we never shared more than a few words that summer.
I do not recall any form of “goodbye” or “farewell” or even “see you next year” at the end of summer 2021.
However, the greeting he gave me at the beginning of the following summer was remarkable. For my first two weeks back in the surf that summer, I did not see him. But then, one afternoon, he appeared, making his way out through the white water.
As soon as he got out to the break, he called to me, “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Have you gotten any good rides so far this year?” I asked.
“Well, the waves have been really crappy to start this summer,” he replied, sounding a little bummed, although still maintaining his typical jovial voice.
“I know! Truly bad. The sandbars haven’t formed yet. Hopefully, we’ll get a storm to push the sand around,” I replied, with a tint of hopefulness before we each turned back to face the ocean, searching for our next ride.
There was something more about my fellow wave rider that gave him the wisdom to only pick the correct waves that took him all the way to the beach. I wanted to know how he did it.
There was something more about my fellow wave rider that gave him the wisdom to only pick the correct waves that took him all the way to the beach. I wanted to know how he did it.
After long enough, when we were both waiting for a wave to catch, I introduced myself: “My name’s Peter.”
“Jim,” he replied simply.
The Hemingway classic The Old Man in the Sea comes to mind when I think of my bodysurfing friend.
The protagonist Santiago tests his luck on his 87-day fishing quest. Santiago shows his wisdom, knowing that his luck would come soon and that he must persevere. Hemingway wrote of Santiago, “He tried it again and it was the same. So he thought… I will try it once again.”
When you can find someone in your life who embodies this type of behavior, it proves the importance of a lesson that could otherwise seem too metaphorical because it’s out of a book.
Jim never gives up when he is bodysurfing. If one day he cannot catch a single wave, he knows to come back the next day and tries just as hard. There was a similarity between Jim and Santiago: in order to catch a great fish or a great wave, you must never stop trying.
At Haverford, our community aspires to find other people to learn from through our shared passions. While Jim is evidently not my age, and I did not connect with him through school, I have found that Haverford still offers a similar experience to me. I have found people I otherwise would not have connected with, all because of activities and enjoyments I share with them.
Since meeting Jim, most days during the summer, I am sure to be in the water by three o’clock, when Jim arrives for his daily wave riding. Jim and I share waves and conversation each afternoon. Four years later, Jim and I still look forward to this same routine.
When I ran into him a few weeks ago, not in the surf but on land, he asked, “Have you been in the water yet?”
“No,” I replied, laughing a little, considering it was only early May.
Jim was sarcastically horrified. When I asked him if he had been in the water, he said, “Of course!”
This conversation left us both excited to meet each other in the break again.
In my first conversations with Jim that second summer, still with his blue swim trunks and ocean-weathered hair, he shared with me the bodysurfer’s definition of a high-quality ride.
“A good wave is only when my shorts are filled with sand from making it all the way to the beach,” he said.
Before meeting Jim, I would think, “If the wave took me pretty far, then it must be good.”
Until I became friends with Jim, I guess I must have gotten a lot of crappy waves and not enough good ones.
From that summer onward, while trying to catch a breath amidst waiting for another ride, Jim and I enjoyed conversing about the condition of the waves—oftentimes lamenting that they don’t fill our shorts with sand—complaining that the lifeguards won’t let us to the good waves, suggesting food on the island, and pointing out wildlife and other summer activities in Stone Harbor.
Unlike the first summer, at the end of every bodysurfing session, we always have something to say to each other. The most common farewell we both say to one another is, “See you tomorrow!” My favorite is when he says, “Keep on riding!”
There’s something remarkable about sharing a passion with another person. In Stone Harbor, that is particularly special: people of all ages can create a friendship, even intergenerational ones, through shore activities like fishing, sailing in the local fleet, surfing at Nun’s Beach, or simply bodysurfing at the end of your street.
There’s something remarkable about sharing a passion with another person. In Stone Harbor, that is particularly special: people of all ages can create a friendship, even intergenerational ones, through shore activities like fishing, sailing in the local fleet, surfing at Nun’s Beach, or simply bodysurfing at the end of your street.
You can apply this concept here at Haverford. Go out and find someone through a club, extracurricular, or other activity—through something you enjoy—to share that passion with them. It’s a lot easier than you think.
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