March 28 — Quiet Water, No Breakthrough… But Getting Closer

Saturday, March 28. My instructor couldn’t make it today, so it was a solo session. The forecast predicted 5–6 m/s. “Perfect,” I thought. I headed to Enoshima picturing a solid day on my 6㎡ wing.

But, of course, it happened. The classic morning-of forecast update: downgraded to 3 m/s. “Again…?” I’m starting to get the pattern now. Especially with the afternoon south wind—it always seems to die down right at the last minute.

Why I still go Even so, I went. Because even when the wind is weak, there’s work to be done.

I arrived at 1:30 PM. It felt like maybe 2–3 m/s. “Tough, but not zero.” I got into my routine:

• Assembling the foil
• Mounting it to the board
• Prepping the wing
• Life vest, leash, helmet—check.

I loaded my board onto the cart and wove through the tourists toward the water. On the way, my instructor actually showed up just to see me off. “Looks light today, but give it your best,” they said. That one comment was enough to lock me in.

Someone’s actually flying Out on the water, it was as light as I feared. The windsurfers were barely moving. But then— I saw him. One person, out there in these exact conditions, foiling. “How is he even up?” Honestly, it was a shock. Same ocean, same wind. Yet, some people just make it happen. “If I can get to that level, the whole world changes.” Seeing that gave me a new perspective.

Heading out into the swells First, the basics: heading upwind. Whether I was on starboard or port tack, I was holding my ground well. Much more stable than before. I kept pushing further out, eventually reaching near the lighthouse. It’s been a while since I’ve gone that far. “Maybe the wind is stronger out here,” I hoped. Nope. No luck. Instead, I was met with big swells—slow, 1-meter waves rolling in. The wind was dead, but the sea was restless. “This is a different kind of tough.” I decided that was my limit, jibed, and headed back.

The grind: Quiet but essential The way back was all about foiling attempts. Pumping the wing. Pumping the board. Dialing in the back-foot pressure. I checked off every movement I’ve been building up. Pressure in the wing? Good. Movement? Clean. “The feel is there.” ...But I just couldn’t get lift. There was one split second where I thought, “Wait, is this it?” but it didn't last. The wind just wasn't on my side today.

A new sense of certainty No flashy results today. No flight. Just cruising. Honestly, it’s not the most "exciting" thing to write about. But— The confidence is real.

• My pumping is getting consistent.
• My movements are becoming repeatable.
• I’m in a state where if the wind is there, I will fly.

“Just 1 or 2 more meters of wind, and I’m up.” Every session, that feeling becomes more concrete.

What 3 hours is worth Before I knew it, I’d been out there for three hours. Nothing dramatic happened. But I know I moved forward. Actually, maybe these are the most important days of all.

What’s next What I need now isn’t more technique; it’s the right conditions. “Wind.” That’s it. Hoping for a good breeze next week. The moment it hits, I’m moving to the next stage. It was a quiet day on the water, but I’m going home with a solid sense of progress.