It is safe to say that if anyone visiting Hawaii ever wants to learn how to surf this is the place. There are many different places to take surf lessons while on the island of Maui. My favorite is located in the town of Lahaina. Lahaina is just a short drive from the Kanapali resort area that is the temporary home of many tourists like me. I took a four hour lesson at this cute little place called goofy foot. They came highly recommended by the concierge at the hotel, and I was not disappointed. The surf school required that all students wear a rash guard, which is just a long sleeve neoprene shirt.

The rash guard is to protect your chest from the sand and wax on the board, not to mention the fact that it will also protect you if you happened to be pummeled by a wave into coral. Coral is prevalent in these waters; in fact, the coral actually contributes to the making of those long beautiful waves.

The surf school provided the rash guard, as well as these goofy aqua socks that everyone had to wear... Maybe that's why they call the school goofy foot. But seriously, it is important to wear the aqua socks because they protect your feet from the coal. The instructor also explained that it is important to fall shallow rather than deep in order to avoid hitting the dreaded coral.

The next required piece of paraphernalia is the board itself. They gave me this twelve foot foam surf board that I actually had to balance on my head to carry. That was really the hardest part of the lesson. Once equipped with my surf gear, I was ready to hit the waves. But my instructor stopped me in my tracks. Did I mention that the instructor was extremely hot? Anyway, he said that we had to practice on the beach a few times, so we did. We lay on top of the board in the sand and pretended to paddle. This seemed pretty stupid to me, but who was I to argue.

By the time that we finally got in the water, I was ready. My really hot instructor stood behind me and actually pushed me into the wave. First I climbed up onto one knee, and then the next thing I knew I was standing. This took a couple of minutes, but that's the good thing about these great Hawaiian waves. You have plenty of time. The waves are long and even, giving beginners ample time to actually stand up. Once standing, I was a force to be reckoned with. Seriously, there was no way I could control that big board, I just held on and enjoyed the ride.

Now, I have to mention that this was not my first attempt at surfing. I have actually tried many times on the east coast. The waves are much shorter and less predictable. The waves in Lahaina seemed to break at the same exact spot every time. Throughout the remainder of my four hour lesson, I was surfing. I felt like my very own modern day version of Gidget.

Another great thing about the goofy foot surfing school is that they have a photographer on staff taking pictures of the lessons. Alas, I have documented proof of my surfing skills! It was a great experience, one that I believe to only be available on one of those long waves readily available and waiting for you in Maui.

Have you ever had inkling to pick up surfing as a hobby? Or perhaps just try it once and put it on that list of yep, I've done that? Then the island of Oahu in Hawaii is the place to do that. Waikiki beach is the best place for beginners to learn to surf. You may be picturing the lonely deserted beach pictured in the 1950's Gidget or Elvis movies. But, I have to tell you that Waikiki beach has changed a lot since those days.

Waikiki beach is located in Honolulu, picture a miniaturized New York City located in paradise complete with palm trees, because after all, Honolulu is a city. The beach is narrow and very crowded, and with good reasons... the waves. The waves are typically small and very long. You can ride them all the way into the beach with plenty of time for

beginners to get used to the feel of the wave. There are tons of places on Waikiki to take surf lessons. Just walk down the beach and take your pick, usually you don't have to make reservations because these are just guys on the beach teaching lessons... i.e. bring cash. Because of the fierce competition amongst the "surfing schools" you can usually get a pretty good deal on the lessons.

If you are just learning to surf you should stay here in Waikiki. However, it is worth a trip to the North Shore just to see how the other half lives. It's amazing to see world famous surfers riding the waves at Waimea Bay or at the pipeline. It looks like something out of the movies. The beaches are crowed with by standers and photographers. They watch in awe as these amazing athletes ride waves as high as thirty feet. But a warning to those daring novices... do not try to surf the waves here. The can be treacherous. In fact drowning is the number one accidental death in Hawaii. This probably comes as no surprise because the entire state is surrounded by water.

Rip currents are one danger to Hawaiian visitors. They are fast flowing currents that can drag swimmers out into deeper parts of the ocean. If you get caught in a rip current, don't fight the current. You should swim parallel to shore until you are out of the current, and then swim safely into shore. Undertows are another dangerous factor while visiting Hawaii. If you get caught in an undertow, (you will feel the wave pull you out to sea) just go with the flow of the wave until it passes. Then you should be able to swim out of it. Don't let the beautiful waters fool you; they can be deadly if not taken seriously.

Heed the warning, but try not to get discouraged. There are plenty of places in Hawaii for beginners to surf. If you do not get your fill while visiting the world famous Waikiki Beach, you may want to try one of the other islands. All of the other islands will have some beginner friendly waves to offer.

If we were to follow back the history of surfing, we should not be surprised to find its roots deep down Polynesian cultures where the community members were wave riders. The chief of the tribe was actually the best surfer of all, and his board was crafted from the greatest wood. According to the same history of surfing, the Polynesian nobility had the best beaches, the most exquisite boards, and did come to develop the most impressive skills. Nevertheless, the other members of the community were also allowed access on the beaches, and the ability to surf well brought them prestige among the others.

It is not difficult to trace religion and myth marks in this history of surfing, since the ancient communities took activities like surfing spiritually. Such practices go back three thousand years ago without one being able to tell when surfing became a sport. The first records in the history of surfing appeared at the very beginning of the 18th century when Europeans came into contact with the civilizations of Tahiti for the first time. It is in the log of captain James Cook that we find the description of a Tahitian catching the waves in his canoe just to have fun.

The history of surfing extended to Hawaii where the practice was apparently implemented by the Polynesian settlers. The simple surfing form practiced in the old times gradually turned into the Hawaiian surfing variety that remains one of the most popular in the world. As for the surfboard making, there was a whole ritual involved, with a careful selection of the trees and special offerings to the gods as a sign of gratitude for their great mercy. Afterwards, the process of shaping began and in the history of surfing as practiced in Hawaii four distinct types of boards were created.

Presently, the history of surfing serves as a reminder of how old things and customs can remain actual, respected and widely practiced. Surfing has no age requirements, all one needs is a good physical shape and the desire to ride the wave. Furthermore, given its immense popularity and the large extent at which it is practiced, surfing is still writing its history every day, in many parts of the world. We would be very much in the wrong to consider that there is nothing new we can learn about it, since experience has taught many surfers that there is always something challenging to try.

A few months ago, a friend called to ask if I'd like to join her on a surfing lesson. Giving thought to my answer, two images flashed to mind. My thirty-nine year old battle weary body, attempting to hang five with a gaggle of bewildered foreign backpackers and pointing school kids. And more vividly, the look on the faces of my settled couple and married-with-kids friends if they knew I was even considering the idea.

Having recently broken out of Sydney's Lower North Shore maximum suburbia and moved to the fun-filled northern beaches, I had already become a prime suspect in their case against dirty-thirties attempting to recapture lost youth. It wasn't that I'd been caught driving a red convertible sports car or acting suspiciously outside Botox clinics.

However, I had been hauled into Fresco painted living rooms and interrogated under the glare of designer mood lighting over alleged mixed touch football games on weekends, bar hopping on school nights, and clubbing on any night, sternly warned that such activities were not something a self-respecting man of my age should be involved in.

"Sure, count me in" I replied. Breaking the news to the fun police couldn't be any more embarrassing than having to answer the question asked of every male living in a beachside suburb, "So do you surf?" with a mumbled reply about body bashing in a pair of flippers. Besides, one lesson was hardly a commitment. It was like a speed date. I'd hook up with a few boards, share some laughs, make a fool of myself, and never be seen again.

The day arrived, and everything seemed to be was going to plan. Paddle out, thrash about like a puppet on amphetamines, catch a wave, attempt to stand shakily, fall off comically, try to laugh at ones self louder than at those around you, and start again. At this rate, I'd be back in the safety of the pub in no time, telling those who asked, "Yeah, I used to surf until I wiped out on a submerged German and did my back in."

Then the most bizarre thing happened.

After landing one particularly kind wave and staggering to my feet, the regulation left hook that had sent me crashing to the canvas all day never arrived. I was still standing, surfing right over the top of the remaining backpackers, while the school kids didn't even register a bump!

There was no denying my giant esky lid was about the size of the QEII, and would have remained stable with an entire Central African government onboard, however, gliding across water with the sun on my face, salt on my lips, and sand in my shorts left me exhilarated in a way no Sunday night happy hour ever had. By the end of the lesson I knew that somewhere in a surf shop out there, a shapely piece of fibreglass was calling my name.

From an early age, I'd always loved Sydney beaches. Face-planting on a sandbank after catching a 'dumpa' having to "do a runner" across the "ouch, ouch, ouch" hot sand until we found a place to drop our towels waiting ravenously in the shop line for a chocolate Paddle Pop and a pie n' sauce with the sensation of course damp sand under my feet, and scent of salt caking bodies under my nose the golden tanned girls who, well, just walked around being golden tanned girls. My transcendental surfing lesson aboard the HMAS Polystyrene left me wondering, "Why didn't I try this years ago?"

Amongst a list of very lame excuses, only one seemed to have any validity. Fear. As a teenager without a car, it had been less frightening to stand in the local nets and watch cricket balls fly towards my face, or attempt, and often fail, to jump BMX bikes over 5ft ditches, than let golden tanned girls see me hanging out at the beach with mum and dad.

In my twenties, I was building a career, travelling the world, and discovering that there was more to a female's beauty than the shade of her tan.

By this time my parents were permitted to accompany me in public, however, the thought of prehistoric man-eaters licking their lips underneath my bobbing sea biscuit, and tales of 120kg Neanderthals performing surfboard proctology on anyone who accidentally took their wave, ensured the closest I came to the thrills of surfing was through the eyes of a six o'clock sports news camera.

After the lesson I realised how irrational these fears had been. I'd seen dozens of board riders emerge from the sea every day. They all still had their torsos, and very few walked as if they had a surfboard stuck in their backsides. Never again would I allow an issue outside of my control to prevent me from living out my surfing dream!

Which meant I'd need a more tangible fear. It came to me just after the smirking surf shop grommet had taken my money and watched me leave with eight feet of fiberglass, a rubber suit, two packets of golden tan bikini girl board wax, and his sunglasses stand wrapped in my leg rope. Maybe my sensible friends were right after all?

Perhaps I was pathetically holding on to a long lost youth?

Coyly making my way down the beach, I felt the stares of beach dwellers boring into me, knowing exactly what they were thinking. A voice came over the lifesaver club speakers. No-one ever understands those announcements, but I heard it clearly, "You, the thirty-nine year old bloke in the hysterically fitted wetsuit. Act your age. Put down the surfboard and move back between the flags. Nice and slow." Just as I thought the game was up, I took one last look at the lapping water and realised I'd come to far to stop now. Mustering every ounce of courage in my entertaining frame, I clutched my board like a swagman with his tucker-bag and yelled, "You'll never catch me alive", crashing into the sea, leaving the world of epochlitically correct troopers in my wake.

I've been honing my paltry surfing skills for a while now and still find myself upside down more often than not, but it doesn't matter. As any golf hacker will tell you, one sweet drive down the middle of a long straight fairway redeems 99 slices into the car park and dribbles off the end of the tee.

Just give me one smooth ride on a glistening blue satin-sheet wave, overflowing champagne froth in my wake, and not a backpacker to be seen between my board and the beach, and this middle-aged delinquent will always be back for more. Because the only thing that scares me these days is imagining what life would be like if I'd never become a surfer dude.

Four things every late starter should know about surfing:

1.Physiological studies have demonstrated that surfing is an excellent form of exercise. An aerobic fitness study at Deakin University found that competitive surfers rate comparable to Nordic skiers and distance runners, whilst my study found it reduced budding man-boobs and wobbly love handles.

2.Male surfers have license to stand at the back of the beach and ogle women for at least fifteen minutes longer than other men before being arrested, provided they at least pretend to be studying the swells in the water too.

Female surfers have no additional ogling rights over other women because men only wish they all did it more often.

3.It is worth investing in a good quality wetsuit. In addition to their heating benefits, they evenly distribute excess body lard throughout the rubber skin.

4.No matter what your mates tell you, a wetsuit should be worn with the zipper at the back. I promise.