But hey, you love the ocean, so this marriage is ideal—until you discover the ocean is as emotional as a human being. Some days are good, some bad, some challenging, some blissful, some worth it, some not.

Okay, so a little less than ideal. But, ultimately, I think marriages to the ocean have a better shot than those ordained by the state. I think surfers learn several important things:

Aretha Franklin sang about it and my ninth grade history teacher deemed it to be a verb: respect. You have to see the ocean as an entity that keeps going with or without you. You just prefer it goes on with you. Acknowledge its power, its strength, its dynamic spirit.  It’s not always going to agree with you and you have to respect that—if you want something lifeless, you might as well take your surfboard to the nearest pond.

Patience. Forget waiting on your wife as she gets her hair just right. You don’t know waiting until you’ve sat on a board in the water for thirty minutes begging for a ripple. I’ve paddled for 856 waves before one finally picked me up. Wives and waves are the same: Curse and scream all you want, but you’re not going anywhere until she’s ready.

You know the guy who says, “I’ve been married thirty years and I still don’t know what my wife wants.”? He’d be an awful surfer. Reading waves is as important as reading mates. Waves are your partners. They want to play with you but you have to be in sync with them. You have to read which way to go, how hard to paddle and when to back off. This kind of knowledge adds years to your life.

Everybody wants to be appreciated. Your wife, your hamster, your mailman,…the ocean. Don’t believe me? You try taking all the credit for a sweet ride and see if you don’t get smacked on the next wave. Karma happens. I’m not saying you have to give the ocean flowers or tell her she looks good in blue. I’m saying it doesn’t hurt to offer a wink and a smile—you can do it when no one’s looking. No joke—every time I leave the water, I look back and say, “Thank you."

Go to her. How often does a bad day send you to visit The Simpsons, Jose Cuervo or Mr. Spalding? Compare that to how many times you seek out your partner. Your loved one can make a good day great and may be your best chance to make a bad day better. You have to go to your partner for love and with love. In an ecstatic mood, I love to surf because it’s almost always a stellar session, and if it’s not, I don’t mind: I’m spending time with the ocean. If my mood is deplorable, sometimes the ocean’s embrace is enough to drown out the bad.

Finally, and most importantly, learn how to dance with your partner. When you learn to surf, you’re not dominating the wave. No, you’re finding the groove together, snuggling into the pocket and twirling all over the place as you dance together. If you watch a good surfer on a good wave, it really looks like a dance. That’s a happy couple.

So yeah, I think I’m going to make a good wife someday. Just as soon as Gerard proposes. Of course, I won’t divorce the ocean. I’ll have to become a polygamist, which is fine with me.