Around this time a bunch of the guys were trying their hands at shaping their own boards. One of them got me involved and pretty soon I was shaping one of my own in the shed behind the house where a friend was living in Trinidad. It was a weird little concave round nose swallow tail single fin. That goofy little board kept me entertained for a good couple of years. I remember a distinct sense of completion to some cosmic circle while riding a board I’d made with my own two hands out at the place where my beloved blue single fin had ridden its last wave. I rode that board through the years when we all started getting married and making babies, or just making babies, or just making fun of our friends making babies. Ten years passed. Then I heard the news that my friend had ridden his last wave. I saw his little girl on the boat when they scattered his ashes. She looked like she was just waiting for this all to be over so she could go home and play with daddy. I thought of my own little girl as I sat in the water and took it all in. One hundred broken hearts drifting in silence on an emerald sea.