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    Wave Warrior
    Wave Warrior
    Wave Warrior
    Ebook71 pages1 hour

    Wave Warrior

    By Lesley Choyce

    2.5/5

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    About this ebook

    Ben is determined to learn to surf. In the rough North Atlantic waters near his home, only the tough can make it on the water. His first attempt is a disaster. Then he meets Ray, a surfing veteran from California. Ray promises to teach him to surf—and to face his inner demons. As Ben becomes more comfortable on his board he learns to face his fears and prove that he has what it takes to become a Wave Warrior.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOrca Book Publishers
    Release dateMar 1, 2007
    ISBN9781554697748
    Wave Warrior
    Author

    Lesley Choyce

    Lesley Choyce is an award-winning author of more than 100 books of literary fiction, short stories, poetry, creative nonfiction, young adult novels and several books in the Orca Soundings line. His works have been shortlisted for the Stephen Leacock Medal for Humour, the White Pine Award and the Governor General’s Literary Award, among others. Lesley lives in Nova Scotia.

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    • 3/5
      Another heartwarming story of growing up and maturing. A sixteen year old boy, Ben, challenges himself in the waves of the North Atlantic Ocean and wins thus reaching a new stage of maturity. It is recommended to young teens who enjoy stories involving surfing and overcoming obstacles in general. The novel also reminds young people that they can learn a lot from older folks a lot more experienced than them as the 75 year old Ray teaches Ben how to surf.
    • 3/5
      Another heartwarming story of growing up and maturing. A sixteen year old boy, Ben, challenges himself in the waves of the North Atlantic Ocean and wins thus reaching a new stage of maturity. It is recommended to young teens who enjoy stories involving surfing and overcoming obstacles in general. The novel also reminds young people that they can learn a lot from older folks a lot more experienced than them as the 75 year old Ray teaches Ben how to surf.

    Book preview

    Wave Warrior - Lesley Choyce

    Weeks

    Chapter One

    All my life, surfers had been coming to my beach—Lawrencetown Beach in Nova Scotia. There were tall surfers, short surfers, skinny surfers and fat surfers. Hairy surfers and shaved-head surfers. Smart surfers and stupid surfers. Surfers with great cars. Surfers who hitchhiked. Surfers who were friendly and surfers who were rude and nasty. There were even girl surfers who sometimes smiled at me.

    Even though I lived by the ocean, I had never surfed. I was a lousy swimmer, and I knew the sea could be dangerous. There were rip currents near the headland that pulled swimmers so far out to sea that helicopters had to save them or pick up whatever was left. And sometimes there were huge killer waves.

    It was a dangerous world out there once you left dry land. My grandfather—a great old guy—had been a fisherman.

    Ben, my grandfather told me one day while we were watching some kids from the city surf overhead waves, you don’t play around with the North Atlantic Ocean. I used to risk my life to go out there and catch a couple of darn fish so we didn’t starve. But you don’t just go out there in that friggin’ cold water for the fun of it. He had died last spring, and I still missed him.

    His words stuck with me. He was right. It could be dangerous. People had drowned at Lawrencetown, unaware of how treacherous it could be. And it was bloody cold, even in the summer. Surfers had to wear wet suits almost all the time. There were a few warm days when people came out from Halifax and swam in their bathing suits, but they were rare. Usually the water was so cold it was painful. Maybe I was smart to avoid the ocean.

    But it was driving me crazy. Despite everything my grandfather said, despite every reason there was to avoid it, I wanted to surf so bad it was ripping a hole in my head. I had to at least try.

    My parents were opposed to it.

    I’m sixteen, I told them. I can decide for myself.

    You remember what your grandfather told you, my father said. He had not become a fisherman like his father but worked at a place in Burnside that made cardboard boxes.

    You’re going to get hurt, I know it, my mom said. What if you drown?

    I’m not going to drown. I’ll have a wet suit on. It will keep me afloat.

    You’re going to put your body in one of those rubber things? my dad asked. I’d rather eat nails with ketchup.

    I’m going surfing, I said. And left, slamming the door.

    Chapter Two

    It was a sunny Saturday in the middle of June. Goofy’s surf truck was parked by the rocks that acted as a seawall to keep the ocean from washing out the road. Goofy rented boards and wet suits to anyone silly enough to brave the early summer sea that was just a few degrees above zero. It didn’t look cold but it was.

    I paid the money and went behind the rocks to put on the wet suit. It felt tight and weird.Goofy, smiling that idiotic smile that gave him his name, had also rented me a six-foot fish—a shortboard with a V in the tail and four short fins. It was the board I’d seen the hot surfers use to really rip.

    I was gonna be like them—on my first day. If I could only stop my heart from racing so fast and my knees from shaking.

    I watched a few experienced surfers paddle out. The waves were shoulder high, not small, but not too big. I wrapped the strap of the leash around my ankle, took a deep breath and waded into the ocean. I had on boots, but without gloves the cold water knifed into my hands. I tried to lie on the board and paddle like I’d seen the others do. In no time I slipped off and went right under. Talk about a wakeup call. A voice screamed inside my head. I surfaced and gasped for air. I knew it was going to be cold, but not that cold.

    I was still in the shallows, ready to quit and run home to momma. I faced the shore. Then I heard someone behind me let out a loud whoop. I turned to watch Gorbie Kessler riding a beautiful blue wall of water. He kicked his board high up into the wave, made a radical turn and fell off face-first into the water. When he came up he was laughing.

    I pointed my board away from the beach. I lay on it. I wobbled. I paddled. A wave came at me and I paddled into it, tucked my head down and then I was over it. I kept paddling straight out to sea. I didn’t even look up until I was near where the other surfers were sitting close to the takeoff zone. I was breathing hard. Man, was I out of shape.

    Yo, Ben. It was Weed. You can guess why he

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