For some reason I thought this was going to be a young adult novel, but it turns out to be a memoir. Ziolkowski is a poet, director of the Pratt Institute's writing program, and his prose is clear and simple. Not simple as in naive or inelegant, but unadorned, quiet...simple. There's that great poem, "Soonest Mended," by John Ashberry where he writes: "This was our ambition: to be small and clear and free." On a Wave is a little like that.
Set during Ziolkowski's childhood in Florida, it has that hazy, sad feel that a lot of things from the 1970s seem to have. Maybe because most people writing about the '70s are in their thirties and forties now? Anyway, Ziolkowski and his free-spirited brother Adam move with their mother to Florida after their parents' divorce, with their beloved, if absent, father almost immediately replaced by Pat, a huge, imposing, and volatile man who is the physical and temperamental opposite of their father. Adam revolts, Thad turns inward. Both eventually turn to the sea, becoming surfers.
The book begins with Ziolkowski at 30-something, temping as a copyeditor in Manhattan, sallow, heavy-set. He finds out that it's possible to surf in New York, so he takes off after work to hit the red line for Far Rockaway and gets on a board for the first time in almost a decade. This is a triumphant moment, even without understanding the depth of his surf-obsessed childhood, but it also sets the tone for the rest of the memoir. There's sadness (compounded by the knowledge that Ziolkowski abandons surfing for most of his early adult life), but also reverence and hope. It's not a happy story, but it's beautifully told.