Mini Mt Meru
Northeastern Surfer’s Dreamtime
I found myself scampering around in the Indian part of one of the small towns in Tobago. Tight streets, and the smell of delicious foods and curries mixed with tropical fruit trees wafting and cool air from a passing cold front, tropical/fresh all at once. Winding my way back and forth between side streets to get to one of the bigger houses via back channels and alleys and jumbled electric lines on poles and so forth. After a short while, I found myself at the back of the property of said bigger massive house. It was set on a green multi acre lot on the seafront. Wide open seascapes in front, the land in the rear making a natural barrier for privacy in back.
Once there I scampered down into the back yard. Green, well groomed grass and a huge square white house standing just over two stories tall, with a classic silver Mercedes convertible parked in the bluestone drive. Looking out across the sea the ocean was not Caribbean blue, but milky turquoise like the seas off the coast of Newfoundland, thousands of miles north. Gazing out across the cold brine sea from where I stood in a tropical land, even the house looked far more northern, northeastern. Like a big white barn church or something. Looking out across the waters I saw far off, another land, like a big island, or another larger mainland. The shore of the land across the straight was green and lush down low at seashore, sea level, with an expansive landscape behind. Mountains miles and miles back, and a stupa like natural formed rock, with horizontal striations at the fore like a welcoming sentinel. As if you passed the gate you must respect the stupa and pay respects to pass by onto the sacred lands beyond. The naturally formed stupa rock had snow on top and then a few thin bands of white across, with the rock itself fading from white up top, dusted with snow, to progressively more grey below in said horizontal bands, like a mini Atlantic Mt Meru.
The sight filled me with inspirative bliss and awe, finding this naturally occurring little Mt Meru type landform there, just offshore of where I stood in what I thought to be a tropical paradise. A gateway before me across the waters on the far shore. Snow capped mountains miles behind, as I stared in wonder and amazement. Twin lands of bliss and refuge, tropical paradise on one side, and then crisp fresh snowy peaks miles back and up across the straight. You could trek your way for miles and miles into the mountainous lands across the straight, beyond the natural stupa until you would find yourself in snowy lands high up. It was right then when I woke up, full of awe and joy and yearning to do my morning practice. Soon I was up just past sunrise, making offerings and setting up my meditation cushion to do my daily chants and reinvigorate my soul with life-fulfilling mantras and peaceful resting sitting. 35-45 minutes later, all done.
Looking out the window I could see the wind was almost non-existent. Buddhas and saffron water filled offering bowls glistening, shining golden bright atop the shrine, sun pouring in my windows. Birds chirping, singing to each other, hoping to get lucky or stake out their turf. Practice finished, I get up, feet on the ground, go over to my desk, turn on the MacBook, start up some coffee and let’s see what’s what with the surf. Ten minutes later sitting down at the computer checking all the cams and the wind and the buoys etc. Looks like some clean chest to head SE swell with light offshores this afternoon. Sea temps about 40°-41°, air temps in the low 50's. Low tide this afternoon around 4:30 PM. That means it should get good around here this afternoon but where to go? Haven’t been out for weeks! Heard some reports of sandbars and dredging and beach replenishment but that’s no guarantee. Maybe Long Beach? Hmm…
The dream floats back into my mind as I contemplate the possibilities of surf this late winter’s day mid-March. Twin spirituality. Tobago and the tropics, surfing, moko jumbies, saltfish, cocoa and fresh fresh fruit, where my soul was formed so long ago. Perfect waves, delicious food and unimaginably endless culture, from T&T and all that that entails. Sprits, saints, gods and deities from all across the pantheon, from Africa to India to Catholic saints, Chinese and Musselmen, Carib, Arawak, Galibi, Celt and thensome. All intertwined together in an intricately woven tapestry of colour, life and magicks wondrous. Then, the stupa-like rock and the land across the milky turquoise northeastern ocean strait in dream. A mix of lands together. The Big Island of Hawaii, where you have tropical fruit and climes at sea level, and then year round snow atop the mountains and wintry frozen peaks. This together mixed with Newfoundland/Tibetan type climes at altitudes so high, way up. Soaring spirit, detachment, and things opposite at face to all things tropical. Desolate, barren, but so unbounding beautiful, so ripe wide open endless spaciousness for the aching soul to bloom. Colour bursts wildly from within the heart to warm the frozen lands of barren uninhabited wild desolation. And tying it all together is that naturally formed stupa rock mini Mt Meru sentinel, standing on the temperate shore, a gateway from the tropics across the straight, to be passed onto and into the endless lands behind, to discover the inner heat which warms the world despite the frigid cold and saves the soul, which, in essence does not exist…
Back at my desk, I bang out the surf report, drop some texts and calls to triangulate the surf and hit the road, and pick up my son ASAP before it all goes to shite. NY swell windows oft go from head high/overhead to barely waist high in mere hours. Need to get on it, stat! I decide to check a few off-the-radar breaks on my east way towards LB. Break 1, sux, break 2, shite, break 3, fun and perfect! Not epic, but looking super fun on a fish or log. Chest to head high but a bit fat. Need some foam to have fun but I’ve got it. My son and I suit up, wax up, lock the car, jog on down to the spot and jump into the not quite freezing end of winter water.
The surf is pretty good for once! Mostly waist to chest high, but with a few head high peaks and every once in a while with only two guys out. Not bad! No duck diving either, another winter bonus!! Just paddle around and through the channel (chanting occasional mantras in my head to thank the winter surfing gods) and you're good. Wait a few minutes for the first wave and then one rolls in. The next 1-2 hrs it’s my son and myself and the two other blokes out there having fun, in chest to head high sunny winter surf. Nothing epic, but clean and somewhat perfect and tonnes of fun. By the end of it we’re starting to feel the chill and tiredness, so we decide to get out and go on home. Lovely day from start to finish. Food for the soul within and without, from dreamtime to waking what more could a northeastern surfer wish.