Crew: Al
Conditions: Dying evening wind, calm, 3 ft.
Again, I’m so damn full, but we’re paddling out before the sun goes down. As expected, the wind dies a little, but Lowers is the only break working again. I’m not expecting much. We both sit at our respective places. Scavenging isn’t going so well, and Al’s mixing it up with the crowd as usual. Once the sun sets, the lineup dramatically thins out. I notice peaks with only one surfer paddling for them, so I move right in with the few heads that remain. I get two good waves in a row. Back at the lineup, I can barely see Al’s face. He gives the signal to wrap it up. My last wave is reminiscent of last night’s wave. On the shore I wait for Al. It’s completely dark now, but surfers are still out there. I wonder if he passed me earlier. I go back to the BP where we stashed our sandals. They’re still there. I finally see Al walking towards me. It was a small window of opportunity at Lowers for me, but at least I was able to get some easy rides as people were leaving.
Back at camp we burn the remainder of our firewood. This evening is different. The wind is almost non existent, and the air is warm. “What are your predictions about tomorrow?“ I ask.
“Tomorrow . . . I don’t know. It’s probably gonna be shit again.“
I don’t say what I’m thinking, but I’m expecting for things to finally get good. One day left.
ohhhh the moment of anticipation awaits for the next day....
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