Video included at no extra charge.
We had a train of nor’easters roaring through the northeast, a region of which, my home, Long Beach, NY is a part. Three back-to-back, coast-eroding, home-flooding winter storms tore into us. Most of us stayed inside to ride out the weather but at least one of us rode the winds…between the storms.
To soar, to be with both sea and sky, to be in…yourSelf. To launch over waves and bound above boulders…kiteboarding.
I hustled myself out of my condo last Saturday simply out of desperation. Desperation to escape the nor’ easter of news screaming from the newspapers, howling from my TV: the “Breaking-News” political drama, the “footage” of Syrian tots nerve-gas-gasping into eternity, American teens becoming rifle range targets in the hallways, in their homerooms. Our police forces confronted with battlefield engagements on American soil.
All we can do is protest…and vote. A current opportunity to voice your thoughts:https:https://tinyurl.com/ybayr4fj
We all need our space from the day’s news, our ports of safety in this sea of insanity. Safe from the news nor’easters. For some it’s art, music, literature; for others, it’s hobbies or sports. One man I saw that Saturday was in his safe port of sea-and-sky-riding. My port was in capturing his bliss in my camera’s viewfinder.
It was cold and blustery and I hesitated to venture forth onto our boardwalk but I’m glad I did. Yes, brave photog that I am I did tote my camera onto the windswept boards to see the sea.
I spotted the unmistakable crescent of color scudding above the surf. Now that is a hardy soul I thought. So I joined him. That is I “joined” him in spirit as I nestled in the lee of a boardwalk ticket booth. From that safe port, I caught his performance.
Now, I wasn’t the only one on the boardwalk that cold day, but I sensed that this sea-stage performer knew that I was shooting his Baryshnikov’s leaps.
The kiteboarder put on a show for the few who ventured out in Saturday’s gusts. But mostly, it was apparent, he was there for the personal bliss. His fun, his joy, his getaway from the nastiness, the insanity of life. No sapiens in his passion dwells on tariffs, aluminum prices, cabinet appointees or….disappointees. Nor even the blood-spattered walls of High School classrooms. He’s in his safe port…in the insane sea…for the moment.
The seakiter was adrift in the flow of nature, the wind, the sea, winged companions often at his side.
His twists and turns, his dives and dips rivaled the agility of many terns I’ve captured. At one point a passing gull beneath the kite’s canopy seemed to laugh at this unlikely companion. At another, a flock of long-tailed ducks flitted past his port side.
As I shot the performance I marveled at his energy as he continued from Monroe to Neptune beaches, no doubt glad there were no sea surfers to get in his way this day.
He was there when I arrived and was there when I left. My shoulders and back ached from holding my camera up for so long but the black silhouette tethered to his rainbow cloud just kept going. He was flying and diving, surfing and splashing, lost to all but his moment…all but his joy.
My music photo video, “Kiteboarder”: