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              Hanging Ten for Pieces of Eight
             
              Adventures Surfing  in Cornwall, England
            
              Article and photos by Ben Keene
              
 
              Pirates may  be the most convenient scapegoat, but the truth is I marooned myself in Penzance. In fact, I reached the Penwith Peninsula by train, not aboard a tall  ship. Besides, the loud, bass-heavy music streaming out of the Admiral Benbow  told me I probably wouldn’t fit in with the buccaneer set anyway. Yes, my  compass pointed back out to sea, but the treasure I sought had little monetary  value.
             
              I had chosen  Penzance as the location for my first surfing lesson. Oddly enough, a long-held  desire to learn what I could of a Hawaiian tradition led me to the medieval  port town. Willing to take a chance on the September water temperature of the  North Atlantic, I made arrangements to be picked up at my guest house by an  instructor from Global Boarders early the following morning. If he was disappointed to lead an individual  rather than a small group through the basics of wave riding, it did not show.  Chris Brown, who turned up wearing a crimson red Rip Curl baseball hat, dark  sunglasses, and sandals, seemed quite happy to be heading out with me on a  cloudless day in early fall. A smile spread across his face as he rolled down  the windows and turned up the radio, charting a northward course across the  peninsula.
             
              “I don’t want  to spend too much time nattering on the beach when it’s gorgeous out,” he  informed me soon after we pulled into the car park at Gwithian beach. Just the  sort of attitude a novice needs to hear. Stacking a pair of bright yellow  longboards alongside our white Mercedes van, we climbed into stretchy neoprene  wetsuits — a necessity for most northern hemisphere surfers — and headed towards  the long, wide expanse of sand curving around St. Ives’s Bay.
             
              Learning to Surf in England
             
              Chris guessed  there were over 50 surf schools around the country. Even if he exaggerated this  figure somewhat, there is certainly no shortage of options for the independent  traveler looking to go from a kook, or beginner, to a semi-pro during a single  visit to westernmost England. (That may be overstating the proficiency anyone  is likely to acquire in a week or less, but it is possible to learn how to  repeatedly ride to shore on both feet in just two or three lessons — conditions  permitting of course.) “I don’t want to set the bar too high,” I told Chris as  we paddled past the breakers for the first time. “Oh, we always set the bar too  high in surfing. You’ll stand by the end of the day,” he assured me.
             
              Fortunately for the equivocating  non-surfer, the prerequisites are few: confident swimming skills, a fondness  and appreciation for the ocean, and a willingness to learn. Before anyone gets  their feet wet, schools such as Global Boarders spend time with their students  going over beach safety, familiarizing everyone with their whereabouts, and  emphasizing the importance of listening to instructions when given. I  definitely perked up when he mentioned mako sharks. As it happens, they prefer  seals over surfers, and to my relief I did not spot any amphibious mammals in  the water that day.
             
              Referring to  our location on Gwithian and perhaps anticipating a worst-case scenario  question, Chris pointed out the rescue personnel in the immediate area. “The  lifeguards are up there, and they have an outpost over there,” he informed me,  gesturing down the beach. “And I’m a lifeguard as well, so… there are  lifeguards everywhere.” Not to mention quite a few other surfers on average,  particularly during the high season when he says he has seen as many as 500  boarders bobbing in the sea at a single break.  
             
              The advantage  of visiting Cornwall during the spring or the fall is that the waves tend to be  larger and the competition for them considerably smaller. This is particularly  helpful for people who need a good hour or so of embarrassing wipeouts before  they start to get the hang of it. “My job is to tell you what you’re doing  wrong,” Chris explained, as I sheepishly swam back from another unsuccessful  ride. “It might be something so small like your eyes are looking the wrong way.  Now here we go,” he said, shoving the back of my board for some extra momentum.  “The pressure’s on.”
             
              After several  hours in the water your arms will tire of surfing before your spirit does.  Nevertheless, comfortable accommodations are as necessary as enthusiasm for the  sport. Cheap and cheerful options abound. Penzance itself has a veritable fleet  of guest houses, most with quite reasonable rates. I opted for £20 per night at Chy Carne (25 Morrab Road), a short  walk uphill from the city center. Honeydew, closer to  the train station on Leskinnick Street, and Penzance Backpackers (The Blue  Dolphin) a bit further from the action on Alexandra Road, are good bets as well.  Most area schools also offer surf holidays of varying lengths that include  accommodation plus rail or bus transfers. 
             
              A final piece of advice: if you intend to acquire a little cred  before returning home, resist the temptation to sleep in on day two and head  right back to the beach. Sore as you might be, the water will feel warmer, the  good waves will be easier to spot, and the local scrumpy cider will taste that  much sweeter when you are back on dry land. But do not take my word for it;  just ask a surfer. Or, if you meet one, a pirate.
             
              Ben Keene is a wanderlust-stricken
              writer, an intrepid eater, and the author of Best Hikes Near
              New York City. His work has appeared in DRAFT, the Village Voice, Beer Connoisseur, and the San Francisco Chronicle.
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