Surf’s up!

Now the dawn is breaking and we really gotta go
But we’ll be back here very soon that you better know
Yeah my surfer knots are rising and my board is losing wax
But that won’t stop me baby cause you know I’m coming back
The Beach Boys, Surfin’

Music is to surf what cards are to poker—you can’t have one without the other. From classics like The Beach Boys, Surfaris and Santo & Johnny to current favourites like The Mermen, Los Straitjackets and Reverend Horton Heat, music continues to be the energy that fuels endless hours of getting raked over, wiping out and finally catching that elusive wave.

I recently had the opportunity to both stay at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Punta Cana and surf at Macao Beach, a public beach located about ten minutes north of the resort. The waves at Macao are perfect for beginners like me who can learn on the smaller— or as my surf instructor Roberto Borrell called them, kindergarten— waves near the beach while more experienced surfers can ride the waves out back.

The drive to Macao Beach is much like surfing itself. Slow going at first, through the town of El Macao, before the real anticipation sets in. Suddenly, the magic moment happens. You reach the crest and see one of the most beautiful sights in the world: Macao Beach spread out before you, like a mirage, in all its untouched glory.

For my first ever surf lesson, I started with the essentials: lots of sunscreen, a cool, rash-guard shirt (my instructor’s!) and a beginner’s board. I practiced lying down and getting up on the board on the beautiful, white sand before finally taking it to the water, when Roberto decided I was ready to give it my first shot. Within one hour, I had done it—accomplished the impossible: I was walking on water.

Nothing compares to the feeling you get the first time you get up on your board and ride it to shore. It’s a moment of pure freedom, exhilaration and bliss. Roberto had the biggest smile, and two thumbs up, when I turned around to look at him. “You’re a real surfer girl now,” he said with as much pride in his voice as a new father.

After three hours of surfing, I was totally spent and in dire need of refuelling. I had noticed a fishing boat earlier in the day and realized that fishermen regularly caught fresh fish for hungry beach bums. A quick jaunt to the far end of the beach, where a blue tarpaulin marks the spot famous for freshly caught, perfectly grilled fish, lobster, plantain, cold Presidente beers and more, and I was ready to dive back in.

The sleeve notes on the 1962 album Surfin’ Safari, the first to be released by The Beach Boys, includes an interesting description of surfing: “For those not familiar with the latest craze to invade the sun-drenched Pacific coast of Southern California, here is a definition of “surfing”—a water sport in which the participant stands on a floating slab of wood, resembling an ironing board in both size and shape, and attempts to remain perpendicular while being hurtled toward the shore at a rather frightening rate of speed on the crest of a huge wave (especially recommended for teen-agers and all others without the slightest regard for either life or limb).”

While the description is slightly tongue-in-cheek, it is a pretty accurate representation of what surfing is all about. So for all of you teenagers, or teenagers at heart, planning a trip to the Dominican Republic, at the Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Punta Cana, make sure to head north and explore Macao Beach. Even if you’re not a surfer, The Beach Boy’s vibe (or The Beach Boy’s piano, on display at the resort) is sure to infect you with a little surfer all of your own.

Little surfer,
little one
Made my heart
come all undone
Do you love me,
do you surfer girl
The Beach Boys, Surfer girl