I’ve made a huge mistake.
As a minimalist who travels with one carryon duffel bag that doubles as a backpack and one board bag with two boards, I take gear and purchases seriously. I simply don’t have room for any bad buys.
One tactic I’ve adopted is a sort of catch and release system. Some things like towels, flip flops, workout apparel, and winter attire (jacket, beanie, gloves), are easy come easy go. I pick these up and donate them as needed. For example, in Japan I bought a dry bag backpack for taking my wetsuit on the train, a warm jacket, and an old 4/3 wetsuit. After my stay I headed for warmer waters and donated all of these.
It’s usually easy to find a place to donate goods in developed countries. Portugal was the best. They had clothing donation boxes next to many of the community collection points for glass, plastics, and paper. In developing countries it’s easy to find people happy to take these items.
My best donation was in South Africa where I gave a bag of winter gear to a random homeless person on the street who nearly cried in gratitude for what they described as a ‘blessing’. The bag included a pair of shoes, of which the unfortunate recipient had none.
I also gifted a board that trip. I had picked up a replacement from a local shaper – heavily discounted by US standards. My beloved JS MonstaBox had been buckled and repaired in Morocco. I didn’t want my relationship with that magical board to end, but it was time. Three boards is a bit heavy and might put me over the checked bag weight limit for sports equipment. I don’t need those extra airline fees.
The new owner was beyond worthy and I couldn’t be happier to know it would be in good hands. I had made friends and shared many great sessions with a South African. Him and his family had taken me in like one of their own. I’ve experienced a ton of hospitality around the world, but none like in South Africa.
Family meals, buttermilk rusks with tea, and a wave tour from J Bay all the way to Cape Town – 680km (420miles). Unbelievable.
I was looking forward to putting my new board to the test and hoped my old one would be put to good use. He messaged me a few months later to tell me he got shacked on it at his local beach break. Freakin’ lekker man!
A Bad Buy
Not all buys and gifting have gone well for me.
I needed a stop-gap solution to get me through the mild winter of the South China Sea before I headed to warmer waters of the Indian Ocean.
While the water was warm by most surfers standards and easily trunkable in the sun, early morning sessions, a bit of wind, or rain made it uncomfortable enough seek out a solution. Central Vietnam isn’t known for surfing. While they do get some wind swell in the winter and sometimes even overhead surf, it’s dismal on a day to day basis and not a surf destination.
There are a few surf shops, but with limited supply. I thought I’d be able to tough it out, but even a 1mm spring suit to keep the wind off my back would be so nice.
I searched on a few of the Vietnamese online shopping apps and found one viable option. It was exactly what I was looking for, I thought.
Sizing for westerners in Southeast Asia is challenging. I’m normally a medium or large slim fit shirt size in the US. In Southeast Asia I can be all the way up to 3XL. The variation in sizes is comical and its rare to find a proper fit.
At home I’d order the Medium Tall wetsuit and be confident that’s what I needed. In this case, the MT wasn’t even an option. There was a small, medium, large, and extra large. Luckily, they did have the measurements for waist, neck, etc. so I was able to go through the sizes and compare them to what would be a medium tall in standard wetsuit sizes. To be extra safe, I chatted with the support and they helped confirm the size based on my height and weight.
I pulled the trigger. The wetsuit only cost about 12 USD so I figured it was low risk and I could always donate it to a local Vietnamese surfer if I didn’t like it. Thinking about it now, that wasn’t a realistic option. There are only a handful of Vietnamese surfers and they all would have been swimming inside this suit.
It arrived in a few days. I inspected it closely, turning it inside out, running my fingers along the seems, and pressing the material between my thumb and forefinger. I was surprised to find a decent level of quality and began to believe I’d made a great decision.
I tried it on immediately and was relieved to see that it actually did fit me fairly well. As expected, it was a little bit baggy around the sides, but the length felt okay. The legs sat just above my knees, the arms right above my elbows, and the neck was snug. I figured it would do the trick.
However, in my first test session I quickly realized there was gonna be a problem. Once in the water and on my board, I could feel it was a little cramped in the crotch area. Extending my arm out to paddle pulled the wetsuit up a bit, getting a little too close for comfort between the legs.
When I sat up, my back straight and legs on either side of the board, the lack of adequate space in the crotch couldn’t be ignored – the material pulled up pushing my balls up into my lower abdomen and even riding up my crack a bit.
I was able to readjust a bit to get my package back in place and pull the wetsuit down, but every time I would get on my board to paddle or even worse during my pop-up, the crotch would ride up, pushing my junk up and into the most uncomfortable position possible. On the slow rollers in central Vietnam, I was able to readjust on wave and actually still surf it out. The real trouble, I quickly discovered, would be during the kick out. Any time I crouched or moved at all, the wetsuit would again reposition my package. When I went to jump back on my board, I found out that my balls were now up and exposed instead of between my legs where they belong. They were smashed between my stomach and the board as I jumped onto my belly to get back into paddle mode.
I quickly adapted my kick out to fall away from the board and adjust my wetsuit before getting back on. Every time I got back out to lineup and sometimes even between duck dives, I would readjust the wetsuit and my package. I hoped it would stretch out a little bit and maybe the problem would go away. That first session was short and after getting home, I pulled and pushed on that crotch to try to stretch the neoprene out. It helped a little bit. Between the stretching, my crotch adjustments between waves, and new style of kicking out, it was just barely workable. I didn’t have a lot of sessions ahead of me before moving on to warmer water and it was slightly better than freezing on the colder days.
Much less of an issue, but still nuisance, the wetsuit also chafed my armpits. This was something I had experienced before and I had much more confidence handling it. A little bit of Vaseline helps reduce the friction and at the end of the day if the waves are good enough, I can bear the pain. If I had any other options, this would’ve been too much for me to handle. The chafing would’ve been the straw that broke the camels back. Actually, if I had any other options, I would’ve burned that wetsuit after the first time it crushed my balls. But I didn’t.
After Vietnam, I still had a couple of weeks in China, which would have slightly colder water and I had no other wetsuit options. I needed to either freeze or make the wetsuit work.
I ended up trunking it most of the time and only wearing it on the rainy windy days. I was thankful to have the wetsuit on while sitting out in the lineup, but I cursed that wetsuit at least once a session when it was riding my balls and chafing my pits.
I couldn’t find a eager taker for it where I was staying in China – probably because of the size mismatch – and I ended up throwing the wetsuit in the trash to lighten my load during a stop over in Hong Kong.
Next time I go to Japan, I’m gonna get a custom-made Yamamoto neoprene wetsuit with plenty of space in the crotch. I don’t care what it costs, I’m going to make room for it.