A week of SUP surfing off the coast of Portugal reveals the steep learning curve and unexpected rewards of chasing ocean waves after 50.
Words :: Dan Rubinstein
Beat-Down at Matadouro
One of the keys to surfing is not getting waylaid in the impact zone. This happens when you catch the first wave in a set and wipe out with more large waves following in close succession. These towering slabs of water will crash down on you and washing-machine you around for several seconds, and if you’re riding a stand-up paddleboard—which makes waves easier to launch onto but more difficult to dive under—the SUP will likely yank you toward the shore. Which at Matadouro, a popular break in the Portuguese surf mecca Ericeira, is a sandy beach with a scattering of rocks. One of which my head and board somehow avoid as I rocket through the frothy shallows.
Catching my breath and readjusting my helmet, I see Reinaldo Pereira bellying toward me on his SUP. “You good?” asks the lead guide at the Mauka Lodge paddle surf camp. “C’mon, brother—let’s go again!”
Although I’m tempted to call it a day after this beat-down, Pereira’s buoyant attitude, and a not particularly sensible desire to quickly supplant this memory, compel me to kneel on my board and battle back out. In the ensuing hour, I manage a few more wobbly rides without further indignity to body or spirit, sticking to the shoulders of smaller peaks and remaining a safe distance from the two dozen or so prone surfers who are chasing the same thrill. Lumbering up the steps from the beach at the end of the session, I see Tiago Silva, the lodge’s owner and head coach, walking toward the parking lot with his camera gear.
“That was a test, my friend,” he says. “You passed.”
A Midlife Push Into the Unknown
It’s the midpoint of my week-long trip to Portugal. I’m a 51-year-old experienced flatwater paddleboarder from Ontario, and while I’m comfortable surfing standing waves and doing whitewater SUP runs on the Ottawa River, and riding choppy Great Lakes wind swell, the ocean is an entirely different beast. I’ve had a couple short paddle surf lessons in tame conditions in Tofino and have made the most of small waves with a SUP instructor friend near Halifax, but this immersion into the North Atlantic is an opportunity to learn how to actually surf. To get into position and select the right wave, to drop down and turn and slide along its face, to turn again and stay in synch with all that powerful, intimidating energy.
In Beginners, American author Tom Vanderbilt makes the case for picking up new skills later in life. Putting our aging brains through what he calls “high-intensity interval workouts” can change the way we think and see the world, and if it’s a physical endeavour, this tactility can be grounding. Humans crave novelty, Vanderbilt writes, and not only does this pursuit help us learn, it can also “equip us with how to better handle future novelty.” So I took the plunge.
Ericeira Region: A World Surfing Reserve
Ericeira, a 40-minute drive northwest from downtown Lisbon, is a thousand-year-old fishing village that has grown into a lively community with around 10,000 residents—and, depending on the season, hundreds of itinerant surfers. Head another hour and change up the coast and you’re in Nazaré, home to the biggest rideable waves in the world. But in a country where people have been surfing for around a century, it was this stretch of coastline where the sport took off in the 1970s and 80s. A five-kilometre string of point breaks and bays below jagged cliffs, the Ericeira area was named a World Surfing Reserve in 2011, one of 13 such distinctions around the globe. The program helps preserve outstanding surf zones by rallying environmental, cultural and economic protection.
A five-kilometre string of point breaks and bays below jagged cliffs, the Ericeira area was named a World Surfing Reserve in 2011, one of 13 such distinctions around the globe.
This backdrop was a bonus for me. I went to Ericeira because there aren’t many dedicated SUP surf camps anywhere, and because Mauka Lodge was recommended by a Canadian paddleboard instructor friend. A cozy house in the pine- and palm-covered hills above town, the lodge was Silva’s family’s weekend getaway when he was a kid. He learned how to bodyboard in these waters as a teenager, then took up surfing. About 15 years ago, in his mid-20s and working as a personal trainer in Lisbon, Silva noticed more and more paddleboards in the waves and saw an opportunity to make a living outdoors, diving headlong into SUP and within a few years hosting small groups of paddle surfers.
A Rebuke, a Saltwater Baptism
There are just three of us at the camp I attend, and I am by far the least experienced. The other two men live near the ocean and understand the nuances of surfing; to me, a wave is basically a black box, and I can’t spot a “close out” or distinguish between lefts and rights. My greenhorn status is glaringly apparent on day one, when we drive north from Ericeira to a secret spot, passing through the narrow streets of a dusty town to reach a nearly empty beach. We don wetsuits and paddle out, and almost immediately I am pummelled by a wave taller than any I have ever approached. A rebuke, a saltwater baptism. A humbling reminder that this learning curve is steep.
To me, a wave is basically a black box, and I can’t spot a “close out” or distinguish between lefts and rights.
Pereira is in the water with us this morning, giving me guidance while I try to remain upright on my board in the wind, and Silva is filming from shore, providing more advice when I collapse onto the sand for a rest. A few short, inelegant rides and several more wipeouts later, we return to the lodge for some video analysis. Bottom line: my form needs work. Breaking down my lowlight reel, Silva explains that I need to step back on my board immediately after feeling the surge of a wave, feet on the centreline, perpendicular to the nose of the board, wide stance, body low, weight toward the front.
“Sumo stance!” Pereira yells, leaping up from his chair. “Like you are fighting! SUP surfing is about exaggeration. Turn your chin and chest, use your toes and heels to engage the rails. You have to do more than shift your weight. You need tell the board where you want to go and express and intention of your direction.” Also: move every couple seconds. Compress and then extend your body. Pump the board to gain speed. Shoulder check to see what the wave is doing. Play with the foam. Be active, not passive. “I’d rather see you falling,” Pereira says, “than being too safe.”
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Small Wins at Parede
The next morning—after dinner in a cute restaurant in Ericeira, and breakfast that a housekeeper comes to the lodge to prepare—we’re off in the van to Praia de Parede. A small beach on the outskirts of Lisbon near the mouth of the Tagus River, Parede is less exposed to the swell and shielded from the north wind. About 20 SUP surfers are already in the water when we arrive, mostly middle-aged men like us. Yet in a culture known for its territoriality and localism, the vibe is friendly, even welcoming. A sign of respect for Silva, who greets many by name.
“I’d rather see you falling,” Pereira says, “than being too safe.”
The waves here are smaller than yesterday. Clean, catchable. I’m able to try some of the techniques I’m learning, with a limited measure of success—and fewer cycles in the washing machine. Bobbing around beyond the peaks, warm in the sun (and a too-thick wetsuit I have for Canadian springtime waters), my mind drifts to thoughts of blue space.
The Science of Sea Time
I’m thinking about the psychological benefits of spending time in aquatic environments, which researchers say can offer restoration, perspective, balance, hope. There are also physical properties; Belgian bio-scientist Jana Asselman recently confirmed that taking the sea air—breathing in “bioactive compounds that may originate from marine algae” in sea spray aerosol—gives our immune systems a boost.
Bio-scientist Jana Asselman recently confirmed that taking the sea air—breathing in “bioactive compounds that may originate from marine algae” in sea spray aerosol—gives our immune systems a boost.
These are some of the reasons why groups in a growing list of countries offer surf therapy programs to participants with diverse needs, including waterborne refugees and migrants whose relationship with the sea may be rooted in trauma. With the right support, a place of fear can become a source of freedom.
The waves at Parede—and my fear—diminish as the tide rises. By early afternoon we’re driving into Lisbon for coffee and pastel de nata, the famous Portuguese egg custard tart, at the bakery where they were first made in 1837. Silva is proud of his country and its cuisine, making detours to a pub for classic prego (garlic steak sandwiches) and shepherding us to traditional restaurants for dinner.
Progress and Perspective
But the main draw is the surfing. I progress throughout the week: another morning in chill waves at Parede, that educational thrashing at Matadouro, and two final days at our secret spot. The break is fairly empty for our last couple of sessions, conditions verging on glassy. My knowledge level is higher than ever; I know what to do. But that doesn’t translate into execution. Especially with my body now bruised and weary, my hands sunburnt and scraped, my nerves frayed.
I’d like to tell you that I caught a transcendent wave. That I turned and followed the peak on a long, dreamy ride back to shore. But the truth is that I struggled. I had a hard time locking into the moment, then a hard time getting out of the water—and a harder time getting out of my wetsuit. I still believe in the merits of trying new things later in life, but one must also navigate the diverging lines between knowledge and corporeal capacity as we age.
Before leaving for Portugal, I told my wife that I’d come home either further obsessed with SUP surfing or cured of the bug. The jury is still out. But I’m acutely aware of just how much I have to learn. And when I go to bed, I still feel the rolling, roiling sea.
Dan Rubinstein’s trip to Portugal was supported by Visit Lisbon, which provided accommodation in the city’s Lumen Hotel, home to a nighty immersive light show. Neither Visit Lisbon nor Mauka Lodge reviewed or approved this story.
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