"A falta de pan, buenas son las tortas,"

Elvis told me.

On Saturday, V and I went to La Boca in Con-Con to surf for a few hours. We got there earlier than usual (like 10:30am) because V'd been told the surf shop would start opening earlier as summer approaches. It was still closed upon our arrival and after a few unanswered phone calls to the employees, we decided to walk down the beach and check out our rental options. We stopped by the next surf shop and they wanted to charge 7.000 pesos for each board. We had about 12.000 pesos between the two of us, so that didn't fly. (The other surf shop charges us 5.000 for each board.)

So we continued walking down the beach, towards what looked like it could be an open-air rental shop, set up between two SUVs. As we approach, we don't see any boards or wetsuits, and are about to change direction when a guy sitting on one of the SUVs starts waving at us. I ask V who it is and he hasn't a clue. Walking towards the guy, V gets a better look at his jeep and recognizing the vehicle, says, "It's Elvis." "No way!!" We only know one Elvis in Chile and he's from Pichilemu, our first surf instructor. We chat with Elvis a little. He was there with several Pichilemu students participating in a surf competition. He asked if we came to surf, and we replied that we had, but that the surf shop hadn't opened yet, so we were chilling meanwhile. "My biggest board is a 6'9 he tells me, do you want to borrow it?" To which I replied, bueno!

The board was featherlight, absolutely gorgeous, perfectly waxed, sleak, and didn't have one nick. I put my wetsuit on and grabbed the board. Wading into the ocean I remembered the last time I rented a board from Elvis in Pichilemu, when I came out of the water, there was a huge gouge in it, that I couldn't remember causing. And that board was a bit of a beater, this one was a freaking Mercedes of surfboards. I pushed that thought aside and studied the waves to figure out which one to surf. They were freaking huge, so I decided to mostly surf the espuma (foam?). (This is what is created when the waves break.) The first three times I try to catch the espuma, I crash as I'm still getting used to the shorter, narrower board, a far cry from the tanks I am used to surfing on. Finally, I get used to the board and absolutely fall in love with it. I was even able to surf a few medium-sized waves (rather than just espuma). The board was so easy to maneuver and responded really well to my movements. My thoughts changed from "I hope I don't gouge the board" to "Estos culiados me van a tener que sacar del mar, porque me enamoré y no salgo más." And then I went to ride a bigger wave and don't stand up quick enough or something. I feel myself losing control. The next thing I know I've nose-dived the board into the ocean bottom and the ocean is spinning me around like a piece of clothing in a washing machine. When I surface, I grab the really expensive board that was lent to me, to look it over for gouges. I didn't find any, thank god, and duly returned the board with a smile a mile long, after surfing one last wave. V and I then talked of going to Pichilemu this summer, and said goodbye to Elvis and crew.

The rental shop was open for business and we rented a couple of tanks to surf on and enjoyed ourselves all the same.