EL PORTO VERSUS MY JSI BOARD: WED 1.05.2011 MORN

CREW:  J
TIME:  0645- 0700, 1.25 hrs..
WIND:  Offshore
WATER:  Going mid to high tide, freezing cold water, long ass paddle out, seriously crowded, head high to overhead, walled with some corners to pick out, barreling if you were good enough for them.

    I actually didn’t know what to expect when I woke up this morning.  I just knew that Porto has been pumping lately, and that I expected there to be some kind of surf.   I had no idea. …

    Shan hit me up the night before and said he would be there in the morning.  Of course, everyone I know has a ninety percent flake rate, which meant Shan wasn’t going to show up, and as predicted, he didn’t.  I don’t expect much from anyone any more.  J was already parked when I showed up.  He handed me a New Year’s gift:  Taylor Steele’s Campaign 2.  I told him that my birthday was on the twenty-ninth, so it would count as a birthday gift.  His two friends, Taylor and Virginia, were there, too.  I got the quick introduction, but they won’t remember me. 
   
    It was still dark when we got to the shore, but there was enough light to start paddling out.  They went ahead of me, but I watched the water for a little bit.  As soon as I saw the lull I ran into the water and paddled furiously.  Even though the inside wasn’t raging, the white wash had some power behind it.  I ducked dive a couple waves and got pushed back a little.  The set still wasn’t there, so I kept paddling to beat it.  It was actually a long paddle to get to the line.  I had just caught up with J by the time I reached it, and I beat another guy that paddled out with me. 

    I tried to get a feel for what the water was doing, but I didn’t do a good job at that.  A right jacked up in the distance, and I turned around to paddle for it.  When I realized I was too late, I tried to turn around … I didn’t make it.  The wave still sucked me down into its impact zone.  It wasn’t a good way to start the session:  a gnarly wipeout on a wave that I tried to get out of and didn’t commit to.  When I got back to the line there were already swarms of people paddling out.  I watched J get a couple waves, and I still didn’t have shit.  I watched 42nd go off.  There were barreling lefts coming through.  Everyone in the line reacted to them by gasping, making noise, and cheering the surfers on.  One guy yelled, “They just need to pull up in the face to get in the barrel!”  He said that because a lot of guys stuck the landing, but the hollow barrel went unridden.  Also, there were guys getting chomped on by the closing barrels. 

    The current was going south, and everyone kept paddling north to stay at 45th.  I finally had enough and paddled more north to the thinner crowd.  I ended up by Taylor when a right finally came my way.  He was right in front of me as I paddled for it.  I barely had the inside position, but he backed off and let me have it.  I found myself grabbing my rail and making a difficult drop.  I pointed my nose down the face of the wave.  When I looked up I saw a guy bobbing in the water with his board floating next to him; I was on a direct course to joust him.  We both saw each other, and I had to ditch my board to avoid the worst.  I was underwater for a while, but I remained calm and climbed my leash to the surface.  Initially, I was pissed off.  He immediately said, “I’m sorry, Man, for being in your way.”  I was going to paddle away pissed off and not even acknowledge him, then I thought about all the times that I’ve been in his situation. 

    I said, “It’s alright,” and I went back to the line.  I sat there in the lull, upset, grasping my board, and looking at its wax job.  He paddled past me and apologized again.  Unfortunately, that was my only potential wave of the day. 

    I tested the inside a little and scratched out on a wave.  When I looked out at the ocean I saw a walled rogue jacking up.  I said, “Oh shit!” and paddled as hard as I could to the outside.  It made no difference.  A lot of people were in the same predicament as I.  The wave was overhead, and I lied on my board as I watched the lip about to come crashing down on me.  It’s no secret that I have the shittiest duckdive in El Segundo, and I’ve done my best to work on it.   Lately, I’ve made some major improvements, but I felt that there was no way that I could’ve duckdived this wave.  First, it was big.  Second, I was right at the impact zone.  Third, I’ve had bad experiences of holding onto boards during an underwater wipeout.  If the wave is too big, I’ll usually ditch my board.  I went through the washing machine as that wave went through.  I resurfaced, grabbed my board, and made it to the line.  I noticed that my leash didn’t have much slack on it; I thought it was caught on the fins.  When I followed the leash, I found that it cut into the left side of my rail, all the way to the traction pad.  The traction pad actually stopped the leash from cutting in deeper.  The traction pad actually bent from the force of the leash.  It was a sad site.  My leash was buried in there tight, and it took some strength to get it out.  That was the end of my session.  I paddled further north to get away from the peak and the crowd.  I ran into Manny and gave him a wave.  He was with his crew.  I paddled to shore and took a closer look.  I lost a lot of foam; it was bad.  I fucked up my new fucking board that my brother gave me as an early birthday gift.  That board has so much sentimental value, and in twelve days I already damaged it twice.  As I changed I looked out and saw the conditions getting better with nice reformed sections happening on the inside.  I watched other guys get nice carves on open faces.  I was mad and jealous.  My only wave of the day was cut short by a guy that was in my way, and I fucked up the best board I’ve ever had.  That negative energy would follow me throughout the day.  This has been the worst streak of bad luck that I’ve ever had with a board.  However, life could be worse.  There are people out there that don’t even have food to eat, and here I am bitching about a busted board.  Life is good, but I’m still bummed.