Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m so afraid of injuring the girls I surf with. Let’s face it, the sport is not without it’s risks. Experience was the reason I chose to surf with Marie. Cecile understood, and I explained I still wanted to surf with her the next day. You see, I wanted to be her first. First tandem surf partner that is. Where’s your mind?

Le Penon

It’s 8:30 in the evening, and as the last of the sun’s rays setting over the Atlantic, I’m walking back from the Pharmacy after buying vitamins to overcome my case of jetlag. “I’m here for a pro surfing contest,” I asked the lady, “will these show up as something forbidden if I’m drug tested?” You see for months I’d cleaned up my cheap act in anticipation of the French sports authorities testing pro athletes before competitions. She went on and briefly told me, "no they’re just vitamins." After the doping scandal that plagued last year’s Tour de France, I figured there’s always that chance. And I’d hate to be in the middle of yet another international incident.

As I walk past cafe Darjeerling I notice a familiar face. It’s Marie and Elodie and another French girl who is, of course, beautiful. I exchanged the typical pleasantries with Marie and Elodie (small kisses on each cheek) and Marie introduces me to Laurie, our head judge. "Oh," I say, "then I’ll kiss her again," I say going back cheek to cheek. They giggle. "Can I buy you a drink, a car?", I ask. They laugh again.

I sit down thinking finally I’ve said something remotely funny. You see, since arriving I’d been trying to expose my happy-go-lucky persona with very little success. I know some word play jokes get lost in translation, but I was beginning to think I just wasn’t funny in French. God forbid, am I just not funny at all? I mean, they loved Jerry Lewis and he was mediocre at best. Oh well, I was on a roll now. The conversation soon turned to what else, food and sex. And from the look on the blushing waiter’s face, it was good stuff. I listened harder. Marie brought up the Australian girl I was with the night before, which made very interesting questions. I explained that she kicked me when she was asleep. I turned to her and said, "haven’t I been paying enough attention to you?" We’d already had sex four times. That’s when I realized the Australian girl was still asleep. We all laughed. Four times! "Yes," one of the girls say. Yes four times, that’s not unlikely. Most men fall asleep after sex, what do you do? "I do this," I say, jumping to my feet and beating my chest like King Kong. We all laughed together, which is a good thing, I was beginning to think I wasn’t funny. As the sun set I remember thinking I wish I had my camera. The light was perfectly reflecting off these three beautiful French girls. If I ran I thought I could get my camera and be back in time. I thought better and stayed.

It was getting cold so we headed inside for some tapas and more drinks. Even the bar food in France is good. They had tapas of ham, cheese and olives on French bread and salmon or crab cakes which were very tasty. We had several more drinks and made our plans to meet early and drive to Hossegor for the comp in the morning.

It was 7 am, way too early. I’d slept only two hours and had been awake since 4 am. I was jet-lagged and dehydrated. Laurie met me at the beach and we picked up Marie, and we were on our way. "Watch out for pigs and deer in this area," Laurie warns me. No shit I thought to myself. After a while I felt I was going to fall asleep at the wheel, so I let Laurie take over. Now I thought I was a fast driver, but Laurie taught me a thing or two. At first I tried to sleep in the tiny back seat, but felt the car come alive with the speed and jostling that only comes with racing. You see, my slow driving had made us late and we had some time to make up. Laurie was a superb driver. She would navigate the roundabout intersections with the skill of the best rally drivers. Sometimes it would take a four wheel drift and sometimes only two wheels. Either way I was learning to really drive in France. I couldn’t help but admit to myself that she’d probably kill my time around the Lacanau Forest circuit. Remarkably, we made it to Seignosse, France in one piece. I was thinking about my deductible for damage to the rental car, but due to Laurie’s expert driving skills, that point was moot. I did kiss the ground however. That joke didn’t work either.

Le Penon is a seaside sporting venue complete with condos for competitors and spectators, a water park, skate park, restaurants and bars, as well as beach access to the surf spots out front. We were greeted by the other competitors waiting for us inside and Laurie took charge checking each team in. After the paperwork comes the weigh in. I knew Marie and I would have no problem weighing out (women must weigh at least 50% or more than the man). But I was surprised because I had recently lost a few pounds. To see an 82.5 kilos on the scale that’s got to be good I thought. I hurridly did the math. 82.5 X 2.2 = 181.5 pounds.

Holy shit! I’d lost 26 pounds since I began training before the Australian event. I know however it was partially because I was so dehydrated and had sweated my ass off on the ride down here. Either way I was stoked. After going to the restroom to check for gray hairs , I checked in and we made our way to the beach for the first of two tandem exhibitions. This was my first chance to actually surf with Marie but I knew we’d do well. We had already agreed on a routine, breaking down each wave, lift for lift. I could tell right away Marie was talented. We’d do a lift and she just felt confident. This really helped my confidence too. I knew we were ready.

After a pleasant meal of meat, potatoes and bread (protene, carbo-loading, post weigh in) we all retired to our rooms for the night. Jet-lagged as I was, I was still wide awake. As such, I decided to teach my roommates a few American drinking games. I wish I hadn’t. You see, they took to quarters like fish to water. One gal could hit a bottle top with a one-euro piece. I was devastated. Eventually I slipped off into the semi-slumber that accompanies jetlag, anxiously awaiting the day ahead.

Voleurs (Thieves)

I jolted awake at the thought that something’s f_cked up. Just then I heard what I thought was a surfboard bag sliding across the balcony rail outside. Board thieves I thought. Sure enough I look outside to see my tandem board missing, but my shortboard still there. Without thinking, I jump up and run outside around the building barefoot over a sidewalk now paved in broken Corona and Heineken bottles. Just as I rounded the corner, to f_ckers are coming back for the shortboard, having already stashed my tandem board I suspect. "What the f_ck are you doing?" I yelled. They thought to run but I was already on them. They tried to talk their way out of it, but I knew I had them red-handed. "Where’s my board?" I asked. They looked at each other, but didn’t answer. I looked over the hedge for my board and they tried to hustle away. I caught up to one guy and grabbed him by the arm. "Where the f_ck is my board?" I yelled in English. "I’m not a surfer I don’t know him," he said. "Yeah, you’re a f_cking thief and you’re going to be a dead one if I don’t get my board back," I growled. I tried in French but it must have sounded stupid. “Where are you from?" he asked. "I’m American and I’m crazy," I replied. "France is not for you," he says trying to walk away. I stopped him again. "Don’t touch me," he says, "or you’ll regret it. Do you understand?" I understand a lot more French than I let on, but I couldn’t believe this goofy little c_cksucker was threatening me. "Repetez-vous," I said. Then he says in English, “you need to go home.” What he didn’t realize is I now had him at arm’s length and as soon as his lips came together to make the “m” sound in home, I landed the hardest right hand I’ve ever thrown.

Sometimes when you’re angry and full of adrenaline you don’t realize how dangerous you can be. And there’s something truly cathartic about unloading all your anger and frustration on someone. He immediately dropped like a bag of shit. Some kids partying up on the third floor saw this and started laughing and spewing some f_cking thing or other. The other guy started to come but thought better. He then started yelling for help to someone in the parking lot behind him. Standing there barefoot and in my underwear I decided this was a good time to split. I tried to kick the first guy but missed and hit his arm which pulled away from his face revealing his two broken front teeth. Beautiful.

I hauled ass back to our condo across the broken glass, upstairs to Rico and Bear’s room and pounded on the door. It was unlocked so I ran in yelling "someone’s stealing my boards, help me!" I can only imagine how crazy I must have looked. I had to repeat myself several times in French and English before they finally realized what I was going on about. They got dressed and headed down to my room. I was already dressed and ready for war. I stashed my shortboard inside and grabbed the car keys and my camera. All I wanted was a picture of these bastards, I’d then deal with them later... descreetly. So running full blast back around the building, I saw the most beautiful sight: Bear and Rico carrying my tandem board. It seems the thieves stashed it near the parking lot to go back for my shortboard. Wonderful I thought, but I still wanted blood. "Come on, Let’s go find them," I said. “But you have your board back,” Rico said. "Yeah, but I want to kick some ass," I said. "But you will drive around for two hours and find nothing," he replies. See, asking a Frenchman to follow you into war is like telling Rosie O'Donnell to shut the f_ck up. They will resist. But Rico was right. I only drove around for half an hour.

The rest of the morning I laid there wide awake picking glass out of my feet waiting for the 9 o’clock call. Ever the optimist, I tried calming myself by thinking of the positives that had come from this morning’s adventures. One, I got my board back. Two, I got to catch and confront a thief in the act. Three, at least that one f_cker will think next time before he steals something. Perhaps there was some strange force out there trying to keep me from competing. I don’t know. But in the end you remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of your friends*. I could think of many more, like I’m glad I didn’t grab a bottle or a weapon of some sort. I probably would have done something stupid. Anger is a powerful emotion, if wielded correctly it tells someone you will not become a victim. If you lose control of it however, bad things can happen.

So 9 o'clock rolls around and I roll back to Rico’s room. "Everyone awake?" I ask. Rico replies, "oh yes we’re awake, someone came in at 6 o’clock!" Ha ha, I love the French humor. It’s not like American humor and it’s not like typical dry British humor. It has it’s own unique condescension. Anyways, I was the butt of more than a few jokes that morning. "Somebody stole my leash, help me!" I screamed. As taken back as the French are with violence, I just couldn’t let that guy get away without something to think about.

Oh well, now it’s time to surf.

Tune in next issue for contest coverage and conclusion.

All photos in this section by Travis Long.