I was on a mission all morning and part of the early afternoon to find a damn Halloween costume. I ended up buying the Cobra Kai uniform (gi) from The Karate Kid. I drove all over town for that. It was 2:30 P.M. when I visited Lauren at work. I had two options. I could’ve headed back to El Segundo, worked out, surf for an hour, then came back to Santa Monica. My other option was to just take a look at Bay street, and stay in Santa Monica until Lauren was off.
It’s been over a year since I surfed Bay St. In fact, it was just a couple months short of two years. I last surfed there for Jon’s farewell surf session in Dec. 2008. … That’s a long fuckin’ time! I parked right there on the hill by the meters. I walked down to the lifeguard tower and peeped the scene. It was sunny, a little choppy, there was some light wind, and the waves were similar to that morning, except it wasn’t as clean. It was really consistent, though, and only a small group of long boarders were out. I must’ve been suffering from surf fever because I saw one three foot left come through, right in front of me, with nobody on it. Once I saw that, I turned my ass around and went to go change.
The endorphins fired off on full auto once my feet touched the water. I forgot how beautiful Santa Monica is. There is so much more to see than Porto: hotels, people, the pier, and the mountains. Also, my dumb ass got a little cocky when I saw all the long boarders, and I wanted to get in the water and show them how the west was won. When I got in, a lot of them left, and there was one older guy and three kids that remained. I caught some rides right away. The lines were long and a little crumbly, and the shape wasn’t quite there to allow a long ride. It was three o’clock, and I put two and a half hours on the meters. On another note, God bless the meters over there. At least it’s still twenty-five cents for fifteen minutes.
After the first forty five minutes I realized that I kind of bamboozled myself. It wasn’t as good as it looked from the shore, but I tried to make the best of it. Strangely, there were a lot of dolphins in the water. I know that dolphins are a norm, but for some reason they are more brave at Santa Monica. There were a school of about eight dolphins playing in the distance. Soon enough, they were all around me. I mean, literally, just a few feet away. They were playing with the waves in my spot, swimming behind me, surfacing right next to me, and everything. At first it was cool, then I got a little nervous, then my bitch ass curled my toes inward thinking that one of those bastards might nibble a toe off. Of course, that whole thought was ridiculous. Everyone from the shore, and even the other surfers in the water were tripping out. Maybe I’m the Snow White of the ocean?
Just as I began to drift into a depression, I saw Shan paddling towards me. My eyes lit up to see this handsome gentleman on his fiberglass stallion, approaching to embrace me in the water. … Okay, that was a little homo. Once we were out there together, the session naturally became better. We were both racking up high wave counts, despite the lack of real shape. Every once in a while a wave would open up. Get this, my wave of the day wasn’t even three feet high. It was a little left. I paddled my ass off, got the slide, then I pumped my board hard and fast to go all the way down the line to shore. It was fun. Shan even saw it.
We left at about the same time. The showers near the beach are being renovated, so you have to walk more north on the walk path to the far showers.
It was Shan’s first time there, surprisingly. He said he would check it out more often, but I warned him … when it’s alright at Bay St., it’s usually better at Porto. Either way, it was great surfing at an old familiar break. There will always be a special place in my heart for Bay St. It was the place that Jon, Cheryl, and I would go with our goofy long boards because we were too cowardly to surf at Porto. We have history there. DRC started there.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
SPRAY PRACTICE: FRI 10/29/2010
Unfortunately, I am writing this entry a day late, and I’ve surfed two more sessions since this one, so I really have to pick my brain as to what happened. I didn’t surf on Thursday. I drove down to Porto Thursday morning, and it was really small. I went back home to surf another day.
On Friday morning I got to the lot at about 6:40 A.M. The pink and orange lit sky reminded me of the Tequila Sunrises that I used to kill at the bar. It was a beautiful morning (again), but there was some significance because there were already people in the line up, and they paddled out when it was still dark. Me … I usually like to at least wait until I can see what’s going on out there.
That morning was a solo session. I forgot what happened to Shan, and J. wanted to go to Trestles, but I had other obligations to take care of that day, so I had to stay local. I paddled out in between the stacks and 45th. There’s this long haired, light skinned, Asian dude that’s always out there every morning. I don’t know his name, but I should get it because we always run into each other and talk. He always has geisha style sun block (like Klaude’s). I’m just glad that the guy doesn’t have a grudge against me. Once upon a time, many moons ago, he was going for a perfect wave, and I was in his way on the inside. I tried to paddle to get around him, but I ended up right in front of him, and my arm caught his leash, thus preventing him from his wave. He was fuckin’ pissed- I would be too. I guess he’s forgotten about that, and I’m glad that I don’t have to get on my knees and bob his mushroom for forgiveness.
We talked about how the conditions were perfect, but there just wasn’t enough swell. He was right. There was barely any wind, the water was clear, it was sunny, the tide was at a good level, but the waves were just too small, or the plus sets closed out.
After about an hour, things got a little better. The waves weren’t big; they were about three feet, but it started to clean up, and there was enough of a little shoulder to carve a little before they closed. If you know me and my new fondness of going right, you won’t be surprised that I got a lot of good practice waves to get more spray on the back side. It was really fun. On a lot of waves I was able to pump, and try my best to gouge the lip. I was even hacking it at that critical point where the wave is already curling. It felt good. I felt as if with a little more practice I could almost do a 180 by the end of the top turn. Of course, I’m not there yet, but I tried my best to sell what I was doing, like over exaggerating my power stances at the end of the maneuver. I probably looked silly since the waves were small.
I just have a dream one day to be a stand out local surfer at that break. I want to hit the water and have people know who I am. Wow … did I just sound like a total douche bag? I hope not. That’s really far away anyway. Besides, I’m still on a beginner thruster. Before I get to ride a true short board, I might have one more intermediate thruster before I ride the real deal.
As I left when it was close to the nine o’clock hour, I took a good look back at the line up from the shower. The shape was getting a lot better, and there were more scattered clean peaks. It’s amazing how the water can change on you sometimes. FIN.
On Friday morning I got to the lot at about 6:40 A.M. The pink and orange lit sky reminded me of the Tequila Sunrises that I used to kill at the bar. It was a beautiful morning (again), but there was some significance because there were already people in the line up, and they paddled out when it was still dark. Me … I usually like to at least wait until I can see what’s going on out there.
That morning was a solo session. I forgot what happened to Shan, and J. wanted to go to Trestles, but I had other obligations to take care of that day, so I had to stay local. I paddled out in between the stacks and 45th. There’s this long haired, light skinned, Asian dude that’s always out there every morning. I don’t know his name, but I should get it because we always run into each other and talk. He always has geisha style sun block (like Klaude’s). I’m just glad that the guy doesn’t have a grudge against me. Once upon a time, many moons ago, he was going for a perfect wave, and I was in his way on the inside. I tried to paddle to get around him, but I ended up right in front of him, and my arm caught his leash, thus preventing him from his wave. He was fuckin’ pissed- I would be too. I guess he’s forgotten about that, and I’m glad that I don’t have to get on my knees and bob his mushroom for forgiveness.
We talked about how the conditions were perfect, but there just wasn’t enough swell. He was right. There was barely any wind, the water was clear, it was sunny, the tide was at a good level, but the waves were just too small, or the plus sets closed out.
After about an hour, things got a little better. The waves weren’t big; they were about three feet, but it started to clean up, and there was enough of a little shoulder to carve a little before they closed. If you know me and my new fondness of going right, you won’t be surprised that I got a lot of good practice waves to get more spray on the back side. It was really fun. On a lot of waves I was able to pump, and try my best to gouge the lip. I was even hacking it at that critical point where the wave is already curling. It felt good. I felt as if with a little more practice I could almost do a 180 by the end of the top turn. Of course, I’m not there yet, but I tried my best to sell what I was doing, like over exaggerating my power stances at the end of the maneuver. I probably looked silly since the waves were small.
I just have a dream one day to be a stand out local surfer at that break. I want to hit the water and have people know who I am. Wow … did I just sound like a total douche bag? I hope not. That’s really far away anyway. Besides, I’m still on a beginner thruster. Before I get to ride a true short board, I might have one more intermediate thruster before I ride the real deal.
As I left when it was close to the nine o’clock hour, I took a good look back at the line up from the shower. The shape was getting a lot better, and there were more scattered clean peaks. It’s amazing how the water can change on you sometimes. FIN.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
NO WIND, NO SWELL: WED 10/27/2010
I made it a point to ensure that I got to the beach around four o’clock to ensure I had some quality time for the evening session. After yesterday’s evening sesh, I was anticipating something good again. As I pulled in the lot I could see that there was no wind, and the water looked calm. I waited to see what the set waves looked like, and it appeared to be 3 - 4 feet, a little walled, but still with some shoulders. I text Shan, J, Dais, and Rick, and I told them what I saw.
I paddled out. … If I had a waterproof phone I would have called everyone back and told them that it was fucking small, breaking really close to shore, and nothing but close outs. Well, to rid me of any guilt, no one else showed up to surf. The sky was so clear and blue. Normally this would be a good thing, but I had to fight through the glare of the sun, both in the sky and in the water. I probably burned the shit out of my retinas. It was really hard to read the waves because every time you looked out, you were blinded. Everything I caught was closing out right on the shore. I saw one guy get lucky enough to get a good right shoulder and get some good spray before it closed. The Rastafarian was out there again. Of course, he was milking the potential out of the wave, regardless.
It was a disappointing sesh, but not everyday can be awesome. I just hope it gets good again soon.
I paddled out. … If I had a waterproof phone I would have called everyone back and told them that it was fucking small, breaking really close to shore, and nothing but close outs. Well, to rid me of any guilt, no one else showed up to surf. The sky was so clear and blue. Normally this would be a good thing, but I had to fight through the glare of the sun, both in the sky and in the water. I probably burned the shit out of my retinas. It was really hard to read the waves because every time you looked out, you were blinded. Everything I caught was closing out right on the shore. I saw one guy get lucky enough to get a good right shoulder and get some good spray before it closed. The Rastafarian was out there again. Of course, he was milking the potential out of the wave, regardless.
It was a disappointing sesh, but not everyday can be awesome. I just hope it gets good again soon.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
I DEFINITELY STILL SUCK ASS: WED 10/27/2010
Jon drove up from San Diego last night, so we organized a little surf session for this morning. I even text J (Jon #2) and Shan to let them know. Jon was ready to go when I got to his house, and we paddled out just before 7:00 A.M. Jon suggested that we surf only until eight, but I said, “Fuck that!” After all, who the hell only surfs for an hour if you have the whole morning open? I told him that he hasn’t been in the water for a while, and that it would be good to be in the water for at least two hours.
A couple small clouds over the homes in Manhattan Beach started to turn orange. I told Jon, “Look at this place! You belong here.” The sets seemed a little walled, but there were some waves with good shape that also came through. I immediately caught a couple lefts to try to pump Jon up to go for some. J joined us shortly after, and we had drifted from the tanks to the south side of 45th. We were in an area that was more walled. I hung out on the outside waiting for the set waves, but most of them were just bombs. I caught some waves there, but nothing with good quality. Just as I thought about how the waves weren’t that great, I saw the Rastafarian guy just going insane at the spot where we were earlier. This guy was fucking amazing, and he is every time I see him. He was getting some good air, planting the landing, snapping right after, cutting back, then snapping again. He was fuckin’ ruthless. When I saw that, reality hit. We all know that it’s not just about how you surf that makes you good, but it’s also about draining the maximum potential out of a walled up or shitty wave to make that ride as good as possible. Yeah, it was a little walled up today, but that motherfucker was SELLING IT. He made those waves look so good, that I could only take inventory of myself and realize that I still fucking suck, and that I still have a long, long, long way to go. We got out to put another hour in the parking meters and walked back to the tanks. We got some more waves over there. There were some huge clean up sets that came through, walled, and unrideable. In between those sets there were some fun insiders that were smaller (about 3-4 feet), but still fun. I caught some rights where I got at least one bottom turn followed by a spray, but I wasn’t selling them. The waves that I caught going left were really disappointing rides. I was able to paddle into them and go down the line, but I just can’t hack the lip or do anything cool when going front side; I don’t know why. Well, the obvious reason is that I still suck, but I just can’t generate speed. I need more practice. I need to be out there. As I sit writing this I can only think about the wave. It’s calling me. I need it. I need another wave.
A couple small clouds over the homes in Manhattan Beach started to turn orange. I told Jon, “Look at this place! You belong here.” The sets seemed a little walled, but there were some waves with good shape that also came through. I immediately caught a couple lefts to try to pump Jon up to go for some. J joined us shortly after, and we had drifted from the tanks to the south side of 45th. We were in an area that was more walled. I hung out on the outside waiting for the set waves, but most of them were just bombs. I caught some waves there, but nothing with good quality. Just as I thought about how the waves weren’t that great, I saw the Rastafarian guy just going insane at the spot where we were earlier. This guy was fucking amazing, and he is every time I see him. He was getting some good air, planting the landing, snapping right after, cutting back, then snapping again. He was fuckin’ ruthless. When I saw that, reality hit. We all know that it’s not just about how you surf that makes you good, but it’s also about draining the maximum potential out of a walled up or shitty wave to make that ride as good as possible. Yeah, it was a little walled up today, but that motherfucker was SELLING IT. He made those waves look so good, that I could only take inventory of myself and realize that I still fucking suck, and that I still have a long, long, long way to go. We got out to put another hour in the parking meters and walked back to the tanks. We got some more waves over there. There were some huge clean up sets that came through, walled, and unrideable. In between those sets there were some fun insiders that were smaller (about 3-4 feet), but still fun. I caught some rights where I got at least one bottom turn followed by a spray, but I wasn’t selling them. The waves that I caught going left were really disappointing rides. I was able to paddle into them and go down the line, but I just can’t hack the lip or do anything cool when going front side; I don’t know why. Well, the obvious reason is that I still suck, but I just can’t generate speed. I need more practice. I need to be out there. As I sit writing this I can only think about the wave. It’s calling me. I need it. I need another wave.
EVENING POUNDERS: TUE 10/26/2010
Rick hit me up in the morning and in the afternoon. He told me that Porto was going off all day, and that I needed to get my ass over there. Unfortunately, since I have been back home I’ve been letting myself go: eating out, not exercising, eating too much ice cream, and doing heathen-like activities. I dedicated the day to handling my business and being productive. At about 4:30 P.M. I got the itch to get wet. I grabbed all my shit, loaded up the outback, and found parking right there on 45th St. Jon #2 was there already parked right in front of me. We had some small talk and exchanged numbers- woohoo, another surf buddy! I text Shan and Dais and told them that Porto looked fun. The wind was up, but I was definitely able to tell that it must have been really good earlier. There were still a lot of waves. The sandbar in front of the tanks seemed to produce a good peak, but we decided to paddle out in front of 45th. It was a little choppy, and some of the waves were walled up. Despite this, some big set waves broke on the outside, and some of them had shoulders. They broke pretty far from the line and really unexpected; they were pretty big at about six feet. I ate shit on at least three waves. I was trying to get the outsiders, but I took off too late on some of them. The steepness of the drop, and speed just sent me too fast and set me up for a purl or wipe out. There were still some waves that I was able to snag. I caught a really good right which was a very long ride. I bottom turned, hit the lip, carved, and did this all the way to shore. The inside was horrendous. I got my ass kicked every time I had to paddle back out to the line. It was really consistent on the inside; the incoming waves violently yanked my board from my grip. I caught another right that was pretty walled up, big, and had an open shoulder on it. Instead of going down the line, I thought about the paddle back, so instead of hitting the lip, I just went over it and paddled back to the line. I guess that was kind of a waste of a good wave, but I really didn’t want to deal with getting worked on the inside. I caught a big left where all I did was go down the line. It was definitely a session where getting the drop and staying on the face of the wave was good enough. It was really big with a lot of phantom chops, so it wasn’t the time to pull off anything technical.
It was still a good session. I love the feeling I get when I see that outside set coming my way, when it’s building up, when you know without a doubt that it’s gonna be rideable. My heart sinks, I get in position, and I go for it.
It was still a good session. I love the feeling I get when I see that outside set coming my way, when it’s building up, when you know without a doubt that it’s gonna be rideable. My heart sinks, I get in position, and I go for it.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
WELCOME BACK JON & LAST SESH BEFORE KLAUDE’S SURGERY SESSION: SUN 10/24/2010
Today’s session was an important one. Why? Because Jon’s non surfing ass was in town, and it’s a miracle to get that guy in the water nowadays. Also, Klaude … he’s getting surgery on his shoulder, so it’s the “last call” for waves until early summer. Klaude, I’ll miss you in the water, and I think Dais is going to have to be your replacement until you’re back (JK). Cheryl was sick, Shan couldn‘t make it, and no one else replied to my morning text. Klaude really wanted to surf HB, but I told him that I couldn’t. We settled for El Porto. After yesterday’s evening session I hoped for nothing less.
Jon and I got to the lot, parked in the first space on the left, and checked out the water at 6:40 AM. I noticed that the sky was clear, and the moonlight was shimmering off the break in front of the tanks. Jon kept saying that it looked small, but I explained that it was pretty good compared to the last couple weeks. The tide seemed at mid level, and the peaks were scattered at about 3 - 4 ft. When I say scattered, I mean it was really scattered. The break in front of 45th was consistent, but everywhere else seemed pretty random.
Jon and I paddled out in front of the tanks, and I started catching waves right off the bat. Jon was on my Becker board, since he still hasn’t found a replacement for his broken Anderson fish. The last time he surfed was with me and Shan, and before that was December of 2009! I couldn’t help but give him shit for not keeping up with his surfing. I even offered him my Becker board to take to SD, but he said he wouldn’t have time. I can’t live without surf, and now that I’m back home it’s even hard for me to go one day without that feeling. Jon struggled a bit at first.
Klaude showed up just before 8:00 AM. We saw him on the shore. We called out and waved our arms frantically to get his attention, but his eyesight is a negative eight, which meant that we might as well have whipped our dicks out because he couldn’t see us. We exchanged greetings in the water and waited for the sets.
Jon finally caught a couple decent waves, and Klaude got a nice handful. I watched Klaude take this left that didn’t seem to end that he caught all the way t shore. He later told me that he was trying to catch up with the section the whole time. Jon kept complaining that he was barely able to paddle back out to the line. Klaude and I cheered him on when he tried his best to scratch into some rolling rights that he was in perfect position for, but he missed some of them. I’m sure with more time in the water that he’ll be the same O.G. Pumprider that he used to be.
On a set I was out of position for the waves, but one random rogue wave was approaching in the distance. I love working the outside line, and for some reason I would rather wait forever for a big wave than work the inside to catch sometime small. This time it paid off. I paddled out to the approaching steam roller and turned around when I thought I had good position. Miraculously, I was right on the shoulder that began to jack up. At the very top of the wave I finally got the slide which seemed like it took forever to get into. It was at least head high. As I got the drop I did a long bottom turn as I eyed the building wall behind my right shoulder. As I went down the line I saw Klaude in the line up and a bunch of other guys that were stationary and watching. As I climbed the face I gouged the top of the lip for a glorious display of some salt water spray. I intended to go down the line, but as I pointed my nose back down the face the section was already crumbling away. There was a long boarder on the inside waiting for some clearance to avoid contact with me. As my ride ended I grabbed my rail to prevent an accident. When I paddled back to the line I celebrated with Klaude who said he saw the whole thing. The long boarder paddled by me and congratulated me on the wave. The feeling I had when I was on that wave was like no other. There’s just something about surfing that makes you feel so alive. Not sex, not being high, not anything else can give you that feeling. I was so elated, but like I said before … the only problem is that YOU WANT ANOTHER ONE! No more waves like that came our way. By that time Jon was tired and sat on the sand. Klaude and I tried to go for our victory wave to end the session. After I caught my last wave I saw that a long boarder was going pretty fast on a left heading straight for Klaude who was trying to paddle back out. The long boarder had to ditch his board, and so did Klaude. I had a feeling that some kind of damage was done. The long boarder examined his hand; I saw red. Klaude checked his board and head back in. “I should’ve just went in,” he said. Well, I was just glad that it didn’t end up worse, but I did feel bad for the guy with the bloody hand.
Jon left with Klaude. I watched the waves for a little bit. I couldn’t believe the clean peaks coming through on 45th. I didn’t want to leave. I wish everyday was like this here. So now … there will be no more Jon and no more Klaude for a while. I hope the rest of the Dumprider Crew can come out and help pick up the slack.
Jon and I got to the lot, parked in the first space on the left, and checked out the water at 6:40 AM. I noticed that the sky was clear, and the moonlight was shimmering off the break in front of the tanks. Jon kept saying that it looked small, but I explained that it was pretty good compared to the last couple weeks. The tide seemed at mid level, and the peaks were scattered at about 3 - 4 ft. When I say scattered, I mean it was really scattered. The break in front of 45th was consistent, but everywhere else seemed pretty random.
Jon and I paddled out in front of the tanks, and I started catching waves right off the bat. Jon was on my Becker board, since he still hasn’t found a replacement for his broken Anderson fish. The last time he surfed was with me and Shan, and before that was December of 2009! I couldn’t help but give him shit for not keeping up with his surfing. I even offered him my Becker board to take to SD, but he said he wouldn’t have time. I can’t live without surf, and now that I’m back home it’s even hard for me to go one day without that feeling. Jon struggled a bit at first.
Klaude showed up just before 8:00 AM. We saw him on the shore. We called out and waved our arms frantically to get his attention, but his eyesight is a negative eight, which meant that we might as well have whipped our dicks out because he couldn’t see us. We exchanged greetings in the water and waited for the sets.
Jon finally caught a couple decent waves, and Klaude got a nice handful. I watched Klaude take this left that didn’t seem to end that he caught all the way t shore. He later told me that he was trying to catch up with the section the whole time. Jon kept complaining that he was barely able to paddle back out to the line. Klaude and I cheered him on when he tried his best to scratch into some rolling rights that he was in perfect position for, but he missed some of them. I’m sure with more time in the water that he’ll be the same O.G. Pumprider that he used to be.
On a set I was out of position for the waves, but one random rogue wave was approaching in the distance. I love working the outside line, and for some reason I would rather wait forever for a big wave than work the inside to catch sometime small. This time it paid off. I paddled out to the approaching steam roller and turned around when I thought I had good position. Miraculously, I was right on the shoulder that began to jack up. At the very top of the wave I finally got the slide which seemed like it took forever to get into. It was at least head high. As I got the drop I did a long bottom turn as I eyed the building wall behind my right shoulder. As I went down the line I saw Klaude in the line up and a bunch of other guys that were stationary and watching. As I climbed the face I gouged the top of the lip for a glorious display of some salt water spray. I intended to go down the line, but as I pointed my nose back down the face the section was already crumbling away. There was a long boarder on the inside waiting for some clearance to avoid contact with me. As my ride ended I grabbed my rail to prevent an accident. When I paddled back to the line I celebrated with Klaude who said he saw the whole thing. The long boarder paddled by me and congratulated me on the wave. The feeling I had when I was on that wave was like no other. There’s just something about surfing that makes you feel so alive. Not sex, not being high, not anything else can give you that feeling. I was so elated, but like I said before … the only problem is that YOU WANT ANOTHER ONE! No more waves like that came our way. By that time Jon was tired and sat on the sand. Klaude and I tried to go for our victory wave to end the session. After I caught my last wave I saw that a long boarder was going pretty fast on a left heading straight for Klaude who was trying to paddle back out. The long boarder had to ditch his board, and so did Klaude. I had a feeling that some kind of damage was done. The long boarder examined his hand; I saw red. Klaude checked his board and head back in. “I should’ve just went in,” he said. Well, I was just glad that it didn’t end up worse, but I did feel bad for the guy with the bloody hand.
Jon left with Klaude. I watched the waves for a little bit. I couldn’t believe the clean peaks coming through on 45th. I didn’t want to leave. I wish everyday was like this here. So now … there will be no more Jon and no more Klaude for a while. I hope the rest of the Dumprider Crew can come out and help pick up the slack.
FOUR WAVES IN FORTY MINUTES: SAT 10/23/2010
I was stuck in Orange County for the whole day, but I was determined to get wet before the sun went down. I got to Porto two minutes before 6:00 PM. Anyone that knows the south bay knows that, at this time of year, you’re surfing in the dark by 6:45 PM. There was no warm up necessary. I immediately put my wetsuit on and rushed 45th. The tide seemed a little low, but that didn’t matter because there was swell! There were 5 foot waves with open faces, mostly lefts.
Sure, it was a little windy, and there was some chop. It was by no means a “clean” evening, but there was size and shape, and that’s all that mattered. The coastline had a decent amount of surfers for it being that late. There was still people trying to rush it just like me. I was surprised that there weren’t more people there on a day like that. I had to compete a little with some of the people in the water, but I didn’t care because I was on a mission. Time was critical, sunlight was burning away, and I had to get as many waves as possible.
I wish I could’ve enjoyed the scenery and surf with some of my buds. The sunset and remnants of orange light reflecting on the texture filled water left me in awe and speechless. I could only stare, gaze, and appreciate.
My first wave was a left. I have been concentrating so much on rights that my performance hasn’t improved going front side. I popped up and drew a high line. I didn’t have enough speed, and I tried to do a tail slide on the shoulder and fell. Another left came where I tried to pump my board to gain more speed again, but the up and down pumping motion actually made my feet leave my board. It was like my body wanted to go faster, but I couldn’t make the board go with me. I thought that I knew how to pump my board to gain speed all along, but I guess I don’t know shit. My brother tried to explain it to me and told me to do the same carving motion that you would do on a skateboard. To me, that’s a little confusing because when I’m going backside, all I need to do is use the momentum of the wave to set me up for a hack. I need to practice his advice, but I also think that I need to draw a different line when going left.
My last wave was a right, which I had to out-paddle another guy to get in it. It was more of a closer, but I remember it being so dark that I had no depth perception on where the face was, or if I was going to purl or not. I called it at about 6:40 PM. I wish I would’ve got there earlier to take advantage of the awesome conditions. My anticipation was high for the following morning.
Sure, it was a little windy, and there was some chop. It was by no means a “clean” evening, but there was size and shape, and that’s all that mattered. The coastline had a decent amount of surfers for it being that late. There was still people trying to rush it just like me. I was surprised that there weren’t more people there on a day like that. I had to compete a little with some of the people in the water, but I didn’t care because I was on a mission. Time was critical, sunlight was burning away, and I had to get as many waves as possible.
I wish I could’ve enjoyed the scenery and surf with some of my buds. The sunset and remnants of orange light reflecting on the texture filled water left me in awe and speechless. I could only stare, gaze, and appreciate.
My first wave was a left. I have been concentrating so much on rights that my performance hasn’t improved going front side. I popped up and drew a high line. I didn’t have enough speed, and I tried to do a tail slide on the shoulder and fell. Another left came where I tried to pump my board to gain more speed again, but the up and down pumping motion actually made my feet leave my board. It was like my body wanted to go faster, but I couldn’t make the board go with me. I thought that I knew how to pump my board to gain speed all along, but I guess I don’t know shit. My brother tried to explain it to me and told me to do the same carving motion that you would do on a skateboard. To me, that’s a little confusing because when I’m going backside, all I need to do is use the momentum of the wave to set me up for a hack. I need to practice his advice, but I also think that I need to draw a different line when going left.
My last wave was a right, which I had to out-paddle another guy to get in it. It was more of a closer, but I remember it being so dark that I had no depth perception on where the face was, or if I was going to purl or not. I called it at about 6:40 PM. I wish I would’ve got there earlier to take advantage of the awesome conditions. My anticipation was high for the following morning.
A PORTO AFTERNOONER: FRI 10/22/2010
Al drove off to Trestles, and I stayed local to check out Porto in the AM. I got to the lot at first light, and the waves were small and crumbling on shore. There was also a hellacious wind. I text Shan and advised that he keep counting sheep.
I headed back out to the lot at about 5:00 PM. The waves were still breaking close to shore, but there was a little size, maybe 4 - 5 ft. The shape was horrible, and everything looked like a quick ride. It was awfully messy with a lot of chop. It reminded me of the pier session, but this was more consistent with a little better shape.
There were about 5 guys out with me in front of 45th. The sun was low on the horizon, shining for the first time in days. I didn’t expect much, and I didn’t have much time because I had to pick up Lauren from work. Right when I got to the line I caught a left that didn’t have much shape to it. After that it was nothing but frustration under a beautiful sunset. The rest of the time I was scratching out on waves. What really surprised me was that every 5 minutes a rogue set of waves would break really far out on the outside, much too far to paddle for if you were at the line up. At least they weren’t dumpy, and even though they were big, they would feather out at the top and start to crumble.
My second and last wave of the day came from one of these sets. I caught a right that surprisingly opened up a little. The section ended up reforming on the inside before the shore. As the wave jacked up I was able to get a little spray off the top before it closed out. After I hit the lip I was racing over the shallow sand until I stepped off the rail.
The session wasn’t great, but I felt that it was a precursor of better things to come. And even though I only caught two waves, I think that they were two of the better looking waves of that evening.
I headed back out to the lot at about 5:00 PM. The waves were still breaking close to shore, but there was a little size, maybe 4 - 5 ft. The shape was horrible, and everything looked like a quick ride. It was awfully messy with a lot of chop. It reminded me of the pier session, but this was more consistent with a little better shape.
There were about 5 guys out with me in front of 45th. The sun was low on the horizon, shining for the first time in days. I didn’t expect much, and I didn’t have much time because I had to pick up Lauren from work. Right when I got to the line I caught a left that didn’t have much shape to it. After that it was nothing but frustration under a beautiful sunset. The rest of the time I was scratching out on waves. What really surprised me was that every 5 minutes a rogue set of waves would break really far out on the outside, much too far to paddle for if you were at the line up. At least they weren’t dumpy, and even though they were big, they would feather out at the top and start to crumble.
My second and last wave of the day came from one of these sets. I caught a right that surprisingly opened up a little. The section ended up reforming on the inside before the shore. As the wave jacked up I was able to get a little spray off the top before it closed out. After I hit the lip I was racing over the shallow sand until I stepped off the rail.
The session wasn’t great, but I felt that it was a precursor of better things to come. And even though I only caught two waves, I think that they were two of the better looking waves of that evening.
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