CREW: Randy, John A., Dave T., Manny A., Jack
TIME: 0700- 0900, 2 hrs.
WATER: Going from mid to low tide, still some weird movement on the inside, shallow where the waves were breaking, off shore winds consistent, walled on the plus sets, inside shoulders on the small ones.
Randy had to handle some business in town today, so we decided to get a morning session in together. Cheryl told me that she might make it which meant that she wasn’t gonna surf. It doesn’t matter because she didn’t miss shit anyway. We scored parking on 45th St. Since I dinged the JSS, I brought the Merrick back into service. The morning air was a little cold. We saw a set coming in as we looked down the hill. From our vantage point it looked like there were long, but really clean peaks, about shoulder high.
We decided to get away from the crowd and paddled in right before the tanks. As we paddled out we duckdove some waves with good shape. Once we were at the line a soft right shoulder came my way. I told Randy to go for it. After that I don’t know what the hell happened. The waves were long and walled, kamikazes again. Randy paddled towards the tanks where Ray was. It looked like there were some clean rights over there. I kept the faith where I was. I caught some smaller waves that were in between the sets. I did the rail grab thing going right, but those waves were garbage. I managed to crank out a couple bottom turns, but by the time I hit the lip it was already closing out.
The sun blinded me as I glanced to the south to see who else was in the line. Other than the shitty surf, the sun and atmosphere was marvelous. I noticed that Dave was right by me, then I saw that he was surfing with Manny and Jack. They said it was better when the tide was higher. I don’t know how he did it, but Manny picked out the shoulders from the walls that rolled through. I guess it’s something in the Amador gene. I later saw John A. to the north and exchanged a little small talk about how his Christmas went. Apparently, Rick is in Big Bear shredding some snow while we are stuck with the funky surf.
My brother paddled back to where we were. He said he got a couple, and that it was actually better than Huntington. I could only imagine how shitty it must be down there. It was almost 0900, so I power walked back to the Outback to avoid the Manhattan Meter Maids. Randy was shivering his ass off. I guess it’s that Bali weather still in his veins.
At 1400 we went to check out the water again. Surfline had a report at 1255 that said it was three to four feet with occasional five and low wind. When we arrived it looked even worse than the fucking morning. We passed. Another day of fucking shitty ass motherfuckin’ surf. Fuck my ass. … I’m dying for a clean wave. I planned to surf San Onofre for my birthday tomorrow, but the forecast looks horrible all throughout southern California. I hate being so bummed. When the surf sucks, I suck. Oh well.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
DAYS OF THE DUMPRIDER : MON 12.27.2010 NOON
CREW: SOLO BOLO
TIME: 1200 - 1300, 1 hr.
WATER: Mid to high tide, clear and sunny skies, chest to shoulder high waves, dumpy, walled, slight onshore winds.
I failed to wake up early. My Sunday was spent relaxing the whole day until the early morning hours. When I woke up to check the tide, I thought that I made the right call because it was low tide at first light. I planned to hit the water at about noon as the tide was coming up. I thought that the higher tide would be better. As I pulled into the El Porto lot everything looked deceivingly well. The sun was shining bright, the parking lot was full, there were a lot of people on the sand and bike path, and it almost looked like summer. The water had scattered peaks, and the inside had some shoulders. The waves looked a little racy, but I thought I saw come workable corners. I talked to the guy that was parked next to me. He said it was going off earlier. I guess I made the wrong call, and the morning was actually good.
I was still optimistic, and I expected the conditions to get better with the rising tide. I took my new board, the JSS, out. I paddled out in front of the tanks to avoid the crowd. I had to duckdive some waves, but I made it out with medium difficulty. Once I was at the line I realized that it wasn’t as good as it looked from the shore. Yes, there were waves, and there was size. There was potential, but it just wasn’t breaking right. The sets came in walled, and if there was a corner, that mother ran away fast. There was a lot of movement in the water, like some kind current swirling things up. Leaves and other little bits of things were floating everywhere.
The main crowd was in front of 45th and 42nd. The current was going south, so I had to go against the current to keep my place. This session brought back a lot of memories of how I came up with the name Dump Rider Crew. It was definitely a dump rider session. I paddled into waves that were pure kamikaze drops. I got pitched over the lip a lot. There were a lot of waves that I paddled for, saw that I wasn’t going to make it, and had to throw my board away from me as I ate shit. I also survived some drops, but the wave exploded upon my landing. There seemed to be a lot of power in the waves. After my rides, the white wash seemed to suck me down hard. On one wave I was pulled so violently that my left ear canal was in pain all the way to the back of my throat. I guess I got ear fucked by El Porto. I had to take a little break out in the line up after that.
There were a couple guys close by. A set wave came, and one of them watched me as I paddled into the wave. As I popped up, I purled hard, front flipping into the water. That was embarrassing. It was already hard enough trying to get some time on a new board, but the conditions (once again) were not ideal for what I was trying to do. I did catch a left that I tried to get slotted under as it fully enveloped me. The whole session wasn’t a total loss. I caught a couple rights that were kind of fun. Since the waves were dumpy, even the ones with shoulders were a little steep and racy. I did some rail grabs and got in a strong power stance, crouched, down the line. When I got to my feet to pump my board I fell because the board just felt too loose. I still need to get used to it. I tried to top turn off the lip but bogged out.
At about 1300 I came to terms with the fact that it wasn’t gonna get any better. As I got to walking depth I examined my board to make sure that it was okay. I found that I broke the glass on the left rear rail. It’s only a crack that’s about an inch and a half long, but the glass chipped off. I was upset when I saw that, but it could have been a lot worse. I learned a lesson that day. The JSS shouldn’t be taken out in shitty conditions. I need to take it out only when it’s clean. Another lesson, when it’s pure shit out there sometimes it’s better to pass and wait another day.
TIME: 1200 - 1300, 1 hr.
WATER: Mid to high tide, clear and sunny skies, chest to shoulder high waves, dumpy, walled, slight onshore winds.
I failed to wake up early. My Sunday was spent relaxing the whole day until the early morning hours. When I woke up to check the tide, I thought that I made the right call because it was low tide at first light. I planned to hit the water at about noon as the tide was coming up. I thought that the higher tide would be better. As I pulled into the El Porto lot everything looked deceivingly well. The sun was shining bright, the parking lot was full, there were a lot of people on the sand and bike path, and it almost looked like summer. The water had scattered peaks, and the inside had some shoulders. The waves looked a little racy, but I thought I saw come workable corners. I talked to the guy that was parked next to me. He said it was going off earlier. I guess I made the wrong call, and the morning was actually good.
I was still optimistic, and I expected the conditions to get better with the rising tide. I took my new board, the JSS, out. I paddled out in front of the tanks to avoid the crowd. I had to duckdive some waves, but I made it out with medium difficulty. Once I was at the line I realized that it wasn’t as good as it looked from the shore. Yes, there were waves, and there was size. There was potential, but it just wasn’t breaking right. The sets came in walled, and if there was a corner, that mother ran away fast. There was a lot of movement in the water, like some kind current swirling things up. Leaves and other little bits of things were floating everywhere.
The main crowd was in front of 45th and 42nd. The current was going south, so I had to go against the current to keep my place. This session brought back a lot of memories of how I came up with the name Dump Rider Crew. It was definitely a dump rider session. I paddled into waves that were pure kamikaze drops. I got pitched over the lip a lot. There were a lot of waves that I paddled for, saw that I wasn’t going to make it, and had to throw my board away from me as I ate shit. I also survived some drops, but the wave exploded upon my landing. There seemed to be a lot of power in the waves. After my rides, the white wash seemed to suck me down hard. On one wave I was pulled so violently that my left ear canal was in pain all the way to the back of my throat. I guess I got ear fucked by El Porto. I had to take a little break out in the line up after that.
There were a couple guys close by. A set wave came, and one of them watched me as I paddled into the wave. As I popped up, I purled hard, front flipping into the water. That was embarrassing. It was already hard enough trying to get some time on a new board, but the conditions (once again) were not ideal for what I was trying to do. I did catch a left that I tried to get slotted under as it fully enveloped me. The whole session wasn’t a total loss. I caught a couple rights that were kind of fun. Since the waves were dumpy, even the ones with shoulders were a little steep and racy. I did some rail grabs and got in a strong power stance, crouched, down the line. When I got to my feet to pump my board I fell because the board just felt too loose. I still need to get used to it. I tried to top turn off the lip but bogged out.
At about 1300 I came to terms with the fact that it wasn’t gonna get any better. As I got to walking depth I examined my board to make sure that it was okay. I found that I broke the glass on the left rear rail. It’s only a crack that’s about an inch and a half long, but the glass chipped off. I was upset when I saw that, but it could have been a lot worse. I learned a lesson that day. The JSS shouldn’t be taken out in shitty conditions. I need to take it out only when it’s clean. Another lesson, when it’s pure shit out there sometimes it’s better to pass and wait another day.
Monday, December 27, 2010
6‘3 X 18 ½ X 3/8 : SUN 12.26.2010 MORN
CREW: Shan
TIME: 1200 - 1245, 0.75 hr.
WATER: High tide, onshore howling, shoulder to head high, choppy, consistent
After one of the best Christmases in my life, I had a hard time getting up to surf early the day after. My brother gave me the most awesome early birthday and Christmas gift: an intermediate level short board by JSS Industries! I couldn’t wait to try it out, but it still lay against the wall, unwaxed, and unleashed in the early Sunday morning hours. Shan hit me up at about 1000 and told me he was going to check it out. I waxed my new board up and met him at Porto by 1145.
It looked terrible out there. I’m not sure what the morning looked like, but if there was no wind that morning, then we definitely missed the window for good surf. It looked like a long paddle out because of the tide. The inside was a little consistent, and the waves were feathering out pretty fast. There were still some shoulders, but it was just really messy. Some guys were out there, maybe about six heads. We decided to give it a shot anyway. When I got there I saw a short boarder try to make it out. By the time I got to the sand, he was walking back to shore, defeated from the inside. The lifeguard truck pulled up and talked to him. I asked him what they said, and he replied, “They said to stay away from the jetty because the current’s strong.”
I grabbed my new board. It felt so light in my hands. I did my usual ritual before entry and walked out as far as I could. It was hard to time my paddle out. I just wanted to get out there already, and I couldn’t see over the waves once I got in. As soon as I got on my board I sunk it, but not as bad as my brother’s short board which was even smaller. I felt the difference of being less buoyant and having to paddle harder to get to the line. On a good note, I duckdived the waves with ease. In fact, a set wave broke right in front of me, and I duckdived it to textbook: I didn’t even feel the wave; I went under and out the back, completely unscathed. I went the whole session without losing my board.
The current started to take us north right away. Shan said our best chance was to fight the current and stay in front of 45th to catch the left. I didn’t agree and felt that fighting the current was a no win situation. But slap my knees and call me ashy, he was right. The best wave of the day came, and it was all his. In the mess, a walled section came with a left shoulder right where Shan was. He caught it really late, and I thought he was going to get pitched. As he dropped in he let out his trademark, “Woohoo!” then again when I saw his head silhouette from my view. He almost caught it all the way to shore. Another left came, and I caught it really late, too. Unfortunately, I purled it hard. I wasn’t used to that board yet. I caught a more forgiving right, but the conditions were not favorable for testing out a new board. Once I got on the face I tried to pump but bogged out. All my rides were like that.
Shan finally made it back to the line, and the winds got even stronger. The few surfers out there called it quits. I caught a couple more waves, but they were already feathered out by the time I popped up. It was just a bad day for surf. After forty-five minutes it wasn’t worth it anymore. Sometimes just one wave can make the whole session. That day, Shan got that wave. Even though I didn’t get the wave of the day, I was really happy to have duckdived that set wave. If I was on the Merrick, I would’ve gotten worked. It was still good to get out and try to get the feel of my new board.
Last night Klaude came over. I told him that my brother told me that it was “up to me” if I was ready for that short board. Klaude replied, “So what are you waiting for?”
TIME: 1200 - 1245, 0.75 hr.
WATER: High tide, onshore howling, shoulder to head high, choppy, consistent
After one of the best Christmases in my life, I had a hard time getting up to surf early the day after. My brother gave me the most awesome early birthday and Christmas gift: an intermediate level short board by JSS Industries! I couldn’t wait to try it out, but it still lay against the wall, unwaxed, and unleashed in the early Sunday morning hours. Shan hit me up at about 1000 and told me he was going to check it out. I waxed my new board up and met him at Porto by 1145.
It looked terrible out there. I’m not sure what the morning looked like, but if there was no wind that morning, then we definitely missed the window for good surf. It looked like a long paddle out because of the tide. The inside was a little consistent, and the waves were feathering out pretty fast. There were still some shoulders, but it was just really messy. Some guys were out there, maybe about six heads. We decided to give it a shot anyway. When I got there I saw a short boarder try to make it out. By the time I got to the sand, he was walking back to shore, defeated from the inside. The lifeguard truck pulled up and talked to him. I asked him what they said, and he replied, “They said to stay away from the jetty because the current’s strong.”
I grabbed my new board. It felt so light in my hands. I did my usual ritual before entry and walked out as far as I could. It was hard to time my paddle out. I just wanted to get out there already, and I couldn’t see over the waves once I got in. As soon as I got on my board I sunk it, but not as bad as my brother’s short board which was even smaller. I felt the difference of being less buoyant and having to paddle harder to get to the line. On a good note, I duckdived the waves with ease. In fact, a set wave broke right in front of me, and I duckdived it to textbook: I didn’t even feel the wave; I went under and out the back, completely unscathed. I went the whole session without losing my board.
The current started to take us north right away. Shan said our best chance was to fight the current and stay in front of 45th to catch the left. I didn’t agree and felt that fighting the current was a no win situation. But slap my knees and call me ashy, he was right. The best wave of the day came, and it was all his. In the mess, a walled section came with a left shoulder right where Shan was. He caught it really late, and I thought he was going to get pitched. As he dropped in he let out his trademark, “Woohoo!” then again when I saw his head silhouette from my view. He almost caught it all the way to shore. Another left came, and I caught it really late, too. Unfortunately, I purled it hard. I wasn’t used to that board yet. I caught a more forgiving right, but the conditions were not favorable for testing out a new board. Once I got on the face I tried to pump but bogged out. All my rides were like that.
Shan finally made it back to the line, and the winds got even stronger. The few surfers out there called it quits. I caught a couple more waves, but they were already feathered out by the time I popped up. It was just a bad day for surf. After forty-five minutes it wasn’t worth it anymore. Sometimes just one wave can make the whole session. That day, Shan got that wave. Even though I didn’t get the wave of the day, I was really happy to have duckdived that set wave. If I was on the Merrick, I would’ve gotten worked. It was still good to get out and try to get the feel of my new board.
Last night Klaude came over. I told him that my brother told me that it was “up to me” if I was ready for that short board. Klaude replied, “So what are you waiting for?”
WE CAME, WE SAW, WE FAILED: SAT 12.25.2010 MORN
CREW: J
TIME: 0700 - 0800, 1 hr.
WATER: Cold as hell, flat … thigh to knee high, howling winds on shore.
Shan, J, and I agreed to meet at 26th St. to change things up. I got a text from Shan the night before that it was too foggy to surf in the morning. I was a little surprised because I had no idea where he was getting his info from that there would be too much fog at the beach. J beat me to 26th. It was pitch black out with barely any cars parked, a bad sign. We walked out and took a look at the water. There was a group of local guys having their coffee and checking it out, too. The Manhattan Pier Christmas tree lights were nice and bright. It was a clear morning. The moonlight shimmered off of the waves and water, but the waves … were nonexistent. It was knee high at Manhattan. We tried to angle our heads in certain ways to make it look like the waves were bigger, but it wasn’t working. We decided to see if Porto looked any better.
There were only a couple cars parked. By then the sun was colored the eastern horizon. It was just a tad bit better, maybe knee high. The good thing was that there was no wind at all. It was nice and glassy, and even though the waves were small they still had shape. I contemplated on driving somewhere for surf, but J had to stay close to home because him family was in town.
I gave him a lock safe for Christmas, we changed, and we paddled out. There was a guy at 42nd catching a really nice left. I was amazed to see that sand bar still doing its thing even with the small conditions. We invaded some guy’s territory north of 45th. It took a while, but once the sets came in there were actually some nice shoulders. Pretty soon there were some longboarders out by us. I got a really nice right, but I fell on the pop up. J went left on the wave. When we both paddled back to the line a set wave came that we had to duckdive.
Once we resurfaced I noticed ripples in the water moving towards the shore. The ripples turned to chops, then the onshore winds took over. Whatever shape was there had left. The little waves were knocked down, they broke on the outside and bogged at the line up, and everyone started to leave. The winds got stronger, and the inactivity from lack of surf only made us colder. J made the call and said it was unsurfable. He was right.
If I knew the session would be that short I wouldn’t have pissed in my wetsuit. I thanked him for making it out. “We tried,” was the theme for the morning. Usually I say that it was “worth it” just to be out there. I was so cold that when I got home and took a shit, steam was rising from the toilet bowl. That morning it wasn’t worth the surf, but it was worth strengthening the surfer bond between buddies.
TIME: 0700 - 0800, 1 hr.
WATER: Cold as hell, flat … thigh to knee high, howling winds on shore.
Shan, J, and I agreed to meet at 26th St. to change things up. I got a text from Shan the night before that it was too foggy to surf in the morning. I was a little surprised because I had no idea where he was getting his info from that there would be too much fog at the beach. J beat me to 26th. It was pitch black out with barely any cars parked, a bad sign. We walked out and took a look at the water. There was a group of local guys having their coffee and checking it out, too. The Manhattan Pier Christmas tree lights were nice and bright. It was a clear morning. The moonlight shimmered off of the waves and water, but the waves … were nonexistent. It was knee high at Manhattan. We tried to angle our heads in certain ways to make it look like the waves were bigger, but it wasn’t working. We decided to see if Porto looked any better.
There were only a couple cars parked. By then the sun was colored the eastern horizon. It was just a tad bit better, maybe knee high. The good thing was that there was no wind at all. It was nice and glassy, and even though the waves were small they still had shape. I contemplated on driving somewhere for surf, but J had to stay close to home because him family was in town.
I gave him a lock safe for Christmas, we changed, and we paddled out. There was a guy at 42nd catching a really nice left. I was amazed to see that sand bar still doing its thing even with the small conditions. We invaded some guy’s territory north of 45th. It took a while, but once the sets came in there were actually some nice shoulders. Pretty soon there were some longboarders out by us. I got a really nice right, but I fell on the pop up. J went left on the wave. When we both paddled back to the line a set wave came that we had to duckdive.
Once we resurfaced I noticed ripples in the water moving towards the shore. The ripples turned to chops, then the onshore winds took over. Whatever shape was there had left. The little waves were knocked down, they broke on the outside and bogged at the line up, and everyone started to leave. The winds got stronger, and the inactivity from lack of surf only made us colder. J made the call and said it was unsurfable. He was right.
If I knew the session would be that short I wouldn’t have pissed in my wetsuit. I thanked him for making it out. “We tried,” was the theme for the morning. Usually I say that it was “worth it” just to be out there. I was so cold that when I got home and took a shit, steam was rising from the toilet bowl. That morning it wasn’t worth the surf, but it was worth strengthening the surfer bond between buddies.
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