Windsurfing for Zaire

My head popped out from the murky green Bay water, my toes digging into the slimy, muddy muck below. I spotted my board a few feet from me, the sail bobbing in the water. Time to climb back on. Again. 

You spend a lot of time in the water as a novice windsurfer. This can be pretty frustrating. The whole point is to be on the water, gliding across it, not in the water, spitting it out.

It was my third day ever windsurfing, and it was beautiful and sunny. I was looking to see some progress, but I was still flailing, pretty much. The sail was still getting ripped out of my hand by the wind, or I’d attempt to turn with a tack or jibe and either fall in backward, or the sail would whip around a little faster than expected and knock me into the water.  

What am I doing wrong? Why am I making these same dumb mistakes? I slapped my board with both hands. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted another windsurfer headed towards my general vicinity. He wasn’t soaking wet like me; he was wearing a crisp t-shirt and pair of board shorts, dry as freshly folded laundry. He looked like “The Dude” from The Big Lebowski, with long hair, a goatee, sunglasses, and a big grin as he floated by.

“Hey man!” he yelled over. “You’re doing great! Stay with it!”

I saluted, and we exchanged a few pleasantries. I climbed back on the board, appreciating the words of encouragement and reminding myself to be patient and to enjoy it, 

Stay with it.  

You’re doing great. 

***

On December 25, 2023, my 5-year-old son Zaire passed away in the UCSF hospital during a bone marrow transplant. He had a rare genetic condition that caused him a lot of health issues, especially during the last year of his life. His passing shocked and shattered me, his family, and his friends. It completely knocked me off my axis. I lost my identity. I felt like I lost my future. 

A few weeks later, in early January, feeling completely dazed, our little family -- my wife and young daughter -- took a trip to Maui to mourn and just be together. Through our sorrow, we found that we could connect with Zaire through nature, like looking at whales and birds, clouds and rainbows, and waves.

I tried something new: surfing. I signed up for a lesson, and even though the conditions weren’t the best and the teaching left a lot to be desired (the instructor disappeared), the whole thing hooked me: the challenge of learning something new; the mindset shift, telling myself that as a 40-something dad, I wasn’t too old for this; the physical and mental stamina required; the time to be in a natural setting and talk to my son and feel a connection. 

When we got back from Hawaii to Oakland, I kept surfing, heading to Santa Cruz each month for lessons. I also started to look for other new ways to find myself in nature and challenge myself physically. 

The previous, very trying year was filled with over 100 days in the hospital, and I had let my self-care fall by the wayside. I wasn’t taking care of myself, really, at all. I was out of shape and developed all sorts of bad habits. 

Zaire’s passing was a reminder that landed mentally like a thud of a boulder on my chest: we only get one body, so don’t waste it; we only get one life, so go and live and enjoy it.

***

I grew up in Berkeley, and the Bay has always been very special to me. My family took trips to swim and relax at Crown Beach in Alameda starting in my earliest days, and I used to take sailing lessons from Cal Adventures as an elementary school kid. I rowed crew for Berkeley High on the Oakland estuary, and now, as an adult, I sometimes paddleboard there, too. 

I never considered windsurfing, though. It just wasn’t something for me. I respected it as a sport, sure -- it can be exhilarating to watch the speed, power, and skill involved. I always assumed it would be too difficult to learn, take too much time, and the water was probably too cold. How could I muster the time, patience, stamina, and bravery to get out there?

I was at the Berkeley Marina with my family one day in May, walking our dogs as my daughter rode her scooter. As we walked back to our cars, we crossed in front of the Cal Sailing Club. A few people were carrying windsurfing sails on their heads as they walked down to the docks. I was intrigued and googled the club when I got home.

What I found out encouraged me to quickly join: a low membership fee, introductory classes taught by volunteers, and the best part of all: if the conditions were ok, I could check out a board and a sail any day of the week. I emailed Randi, and started studying the club windsurfing manual. By the next weekend, I was signed up for both the level I and II introductory windsurf courses. 

I knew I was taking on a challenging new sport, but the reality really sunk in during the first lesson out on the water. To position us so we wouldn’t get swept onto the rocks and have to hike back to the dock, the instructor encouraged me and my fellow novice learners to paddle our way into a spot to launch where we had a decent runway. Paddling and dragging the sail is difficult. I’d struggle to get up, enjoy a short ride, bail, and start to paddle again. 

The first few days were like that, with baby steps of progress. I would think I had a few things out, only for the wind to come from a totally new direction than I’d experienced and totally throw me off. Those challenging moments felt like learning to walk. 

It wasn’t all struggle, though, far from it.  There were so many moments of pure enjoyment and satisfaction. I got better at putting the board together and launching by myself. I made some successful tacks and jibes, greatly reducing the amount of time I was spending in the water paddling. I got up long enough to glide on the water and feel the breeze in my face.

***

What I hadn’t considered when I joined the Cal Sailing Club was how much I would learn from other windsurfers -- the club veterans answering my dumb novice questions or folks on the water offering tips on my form (usually, something along the lines of “get your butt in and lean back”).

I haven’t bumped into “The Dude” of windsurfing since, but I always hope to. Good vibes are contagious, and sometimes you need a little encouragement, especially when you have a mouth full of salty Bay water, and you’re wondering why you aren’t on the couch watching a game or at least doing something a little easier or more familiar.

I look to improve, at least a little, every time I’m out there. More than anything, though, I try to enjoy the ride and the experience. I try to stay in the moment and not get too ahead of myself or too frustrated.  I look for my son in the clouds and the birds. I hope to see a seal pop out of the water one day. And I remind myself:

Stay with it. 

You’re doing great. 

***

Ryan Phillips is a writer and he lives in Oakland with his family and corgi-pitbull, Turner.