Headlights
By Olivia James
I am not a huge fan of flying, but I love to travel and explore new destinations. It is the getting there a part that is tricky for me. Since our flight was at the crack of dawn, and no bars were open, I prepared a homemade cocktail to mix with my anti-anxiety meds. This was to ensure I would get through the flight without embarrassing myself or my travel mates. This is NOT recommended by the way, but after much trial and error, it is the only way to manage my stress-induced aerophobia. As we boarded the twin-engine prop plane for the final leg of our flight, it was quite apparent my pranayama breathing wasn’t going to cut it. Another pill was needed, in addition to some conversations with my dead Grandma Helen. Charlie and Phoebe were just fine, laughing and taking pics, all while I suffered in silence, counting the seconds until I could get off this death trap!
Let’s get this party started! While Charlie was chatting up Matt, Phoebe grabbed a drink and a cigarette to jump start her week of hedonism.
As Dean and I got to know each other, I realized he was a hot nerd. Over half of what he said went completely over my head, yet I was still intrigued. Don’t get me wrong. I am a smart girl. Really smart. But this guy was “rocket scientist smart”. He and Matt were both from San Francisco. Dean was working with the government on aerospace projects. He was pretty vague about exactly what that meant and I decided not to ask too many questions. Matt was part of a private equity group that invested in small tech startups. Both needed a break from the intense pressure of their jobs and thought surf lessons would be a great escape.
As the tides dictated, we got up at the crack of dawn for our very first surf lesson. I was a little groggy after staying up till 3 am with Dean, but this is what we were here for, right? I was checking “ become a surfer girl” off of my bucket list!
Sebastian, our surf instructor, was extremely patient as we went through the fundamentals of surfing. He first went behind each of us as we were standing and pushed us forward. He passed in front of us and announced, “Olivia regular, Charlie regular, Phoebe goofy.” No, this was not a statement about our personalities, though fairly accurate, but, instead, a statement about which leg goes in front when on the board. Regular left foot, goofy right foot. We then learned the POP UP…”paddle, paddle, paddle, POP UP,” over and over again until we got the hang of things.
We finally graduated to actually going out into the water. We learned about the “stingray shuffle,” a little dance used to get to deeper waters without getting stung. We practiced our new moves from the “middle,” which are the milder waves inside of the break. Go out, jump on the board, paddle paddle, paddle, POP UP! Not quite as easy as it sounds. It took strength, balance, and strategic timing, but boy did we have a blast trying!
Phoebe was starving when she got back to Casa Ola. Still making the most of her week of indulgence, she ordered a burger and fries as she talked to Eva on the phone.
“Hey surfer girl! Are you guys having fun?,” said Eva.
“Yes! It is incredibly beautiful here. So far I have knee-surfed, not quite on my feet yet. Is Ryley wearing an ascot and sunglasses?”
“You noticed! Doesn’t he look fabulous? We’re going to the office in style! Where are Olivia and Charlie?”
Phoebe scans the phone in the direction of the pool.
“Oh wow,“ said Eva. “What happened to Hot Josh?“
“You snooze, you lose! That hot tamale is Dean. And the cutie with the beer is Matt.”
“Who is the redhead? She looks pissed!“
“That is Mariah. She has her eyes set on Dean, but Olivia squashed that the minute she arrived.”
As we got out of the pool, we overheard a group of ticos talking about DJ night at a local club, called Los Ananas. While the surf instructors secured the van to transport most of the group, Charlie and I commandeered a 4 wheeler, since there wasn’t enough room for all of us. Phoebe managed to grab the last available seat. Apparently, her week of risk-taking did not include a possible roll over in an ATV.
Charlie and I were able to catch up the next morning as we ventured out to our 4th surf lesson.
“What happened with Matt last night? “
“Not much. I can’t figure him out. It’s like he has his yellow light on.”
“What do you mean?,” I asked.
“Well, you and Dean both have your green lights on. Go. No confusion. My light is going back and forth from green to yellow. And Matt’s light is permanently yellow. Make sense?“
“Yes! Literally the definition of mixed signals.“
After a few more lessons from the middle, we were encouraged by Sebastian to paddle to the outside. “PADDLE, PADDLE, PADDLE,” he screamed as he pushed us forward in an attempt to make it over the break. And for those that didn’t quite make it over, he guided us through techniques to avoid being dragged under with the “washing machine” rip tide of the wave. God, that was terrifying! Once we finally made it to the “outside,” we stopped to absorb the beauty surrounding us. Mother Nature is much like life itself…an infinite bath of tranquil turquoise waters with the capability of turning upside down at any moment! One minute things are calm and uneventful, the next minute you find yourself in the center of the storm.
There it was on the horizon. That small bump of movement heading toward us.
“I’m going to take this one,” I said to Charlie.
“Go girl! Pura Vida,“ she said, while giving me the shaka hand signal.
I turned my board, looked back, and the minute I felt my board start to lift under me, I paddled my heart out until it was time. Chest up, leg up, POP UP! I was UP! Oh my, I was surfing! Really surfing! The wave was taking me for a ride. It was the most incredible feeling of freedom and release. For the first time in my life, I felt pure joy.
The afterglow of catching that wave lasted well into the evening. I met up with Phoebe and Charlie. We sat together in silence as we basked in the lavender and coral shades of the evening’s sunset, appreciating how lucky we were to have this time together.
After we changed and grabbed dinner, we all met back at the Casa Ola bar. It was our last night in Costa Rica, and we wanted to make the most of it. Mariah had hit it off with Sebastian, so they were having their final send off elsewhere. Since we had the bar to ourselves, Dean plugged in his phone for the final night’s soundtrack. We sang to Elton John's Tiny Dancer. Then Charlie engaged in a tragic lap dance in her shorts and flip flops to “Get Low,” by Lil John. Dean leaned down to let me know the local bodega was finally back in stock with “gloves,” and we snuck off to our log on the beach.
Dean and I were like teenagers running down to the beach, slowly removing each article of clothing. We continued running straight into the ocean, where we frolicked in the water, splashing and kissing and more…
Just as we made our way back to our log, we noticed headlights making their way straight toward us!
This sent Dean into a state of panic, as he babbled something about not getting arrested and losing his top secret security clearance.
“Who are you?,” I said, as I frantically searched in the dark for any evidence of my dress. The headlights passed by, either not seeing us or choosing to ignore us. Crisis averted. Dean Bond’s anonymity would remain intact.
When I arrived at the hotel room, Phoebe and Charlie were awake, waiting for the download of the evening’s events.
They could not stop laughing, as I described the sheer horror displayed on Dean’s face as he scrambled to find cover behind our log.
It was time to say goodbye to Casa Ola, Matt and Dean, and the good life. Pura Vida to all! Until next time. And there would DEFINITELY be a next time!
“I don’t fit in-between this table any more. Damn that Eva and those daily breakfast muffins!”
By Olivia James
