The Waterman
The Waterman is in the driver’s seat. He may be on his way to Cape Hatteras, an offshore canyon or the hardware store for supplies, but he’s rolling up to Lyman Street for a surf check first.
He’s been up since four, it’s 9:15 and the tide’s draining so this should be a good spot for his second surf of the day.
His morning probably went something like this:
Coffee while checking the tides, buoy readings, and the tropical weather. Still half asleep, he thinks, “I want to keep an eye on Hurricane Ike’s path. It looks like once he makes landfall in the gulf, he’ll make a turn to the east, and re-emerge in the Atlantic as a costal low. The surf could get big by Thursday or Friday, but the winds may be funky, so keep the schedule loose in case you will need to travel.”
He loads a couple of boards into the truck and drives to the beach in the dark listening to the marine band radio or “The Stones”, Sipping coffee from a thermos.
He’s at the beach, 4:45AM at Karge, sunrise an hour away. He turns the car off, climbs out of the truck, listens and sniffs the air. He hears waves crashing, estimating size by sound alone. He smells land. The wind is offshore. He looks at his watch and consults his mental tide chart for guidance. “The tide’s still pretty high so I think I’ll cast a plug into that hole next to the jetty. It was holding a big ball of peanut bunker yesterday, and the bass should be there feeding now.” Casting a bomber into the hole in the dark, he catches two shorts and two keepers. Three are released; the other, dinner. The fishing ends when the sun gets a little closer to the horizon, and a good set wraps around the Karge Street jetty. “It’s a little wobbly here, but Harris Street has been breaking good at higher tides.” A couple more casts, and it’s back to the truck.
He’s got a van loaded with gear. Up front there are coffee mugs and magazines and a multi tool, sun block, duct tape, wax and sand on the floor.
A quick look in the back and an educated waterman can tell what’s happening on this little piece of coast. Big boards mean big waves, dive gear means it’s probably flat, and so it goes.
Today, the gear in the truck consists of a few surfboards of different sizes and shapes, wetsuits and a couple rank old booties. Leashes (some broken), wax, swim fins, body board, mask and snorkel, pole-spear, spear gun, paddle, a cooler (containing a fish on ice waiting to be filleted), waders, corkers, plug bag, Grunden’s, rubber boots, a gas can, shovel, beach chair, a knife, and more sand. The smell is a combination of pina colada “sex wax”, fish and urea. On the roof, a paddleboard and a long board, one of the kids’ soft boards is still up there from the weekend, a couple of fishing rods and a gaff.
A short drive to Harris beach, and as expected, it’s good. “It’s still a little high here too” he thinks, “but much better than Karge, and probably the best spot around.” He slips into his 3 mill and booties in the gray light of early dawn and opts for his fish that will work well in the semi high tide conditions. As the tide drains and the morning progresses, he’ll switch to the thruster. Around sunrise he is joined by a couple of other surfers. They all know him and he has seen them before. His buddy paddles out at 7:00 for a quick surf before heading north to service some accounts. They talk about waves and weather and family and hoot each other into set waves.
They get out at 8:00. The friend goes north to work and the Waterman gets coffee and checks another spot that will be good at this tide and swell direction. Arranging obligations around tide and wind, he ponders ” time and tide wait for no man”.
Maybe he surfs again. Maybe he dives, or goes for a paddle, to the Canyon or Hatteras or the hardware store. Fishing can be really good around sunset. Tomorrow is another day…
On every stretch of coast, in every little town or village, in every ocean and sea there are Watermen, people whose lives revolve around the sea and her coast’s happenings and inhabitants. They are the keepers of the coast and the stuff of legends. Charging hard when the waves are big. Diving deep when it’s flat, catching big fish, paddling long distances. Piloting boats. Sailing.
The Waterman will rescue an exhausted tourist caught in a rip current and deliver her back to shore. Paddling back out for more waves before her parents have a chance to thank him. He’ll kick to the bottom in 60 feet of water to retrieve your dropped spear gun, resurfacing two minutes later with a detailed fish report. He knows when and where the stripers will arrive first in the spring and is the last guy to put his fishing gear away in January. He knows when the surf will get good, and when the winds will go offshore. He’s slotted deep on set waves and charges hardest when it’s huge and frigid. He’s well traveled and knowledgeable of the life aquatic.
Broke your leash, need some wax, a fin, a weather report, a shaper, dinner? Just ask the Waterman and he’ll do what he can to help you out.
