BETTER ON THE HIGH TIDE, MON 26DEC2011 MOR

Crew: Klaude, Francis, CC, and the WHC

Time: 0730-0930

Conditions: Sunny, warm, glassy, high tide, 3-4 ft, consistent, decent shape mixed with some walled and racy surf.

     Yesterday Rick wanted to go to O-side, but I went to bed last night pretty late. This morning I get a text from Rick just after six; he just woke up. I text him back saying that I really need to rest, and that the tide is high this morning anyway; I’m expecting the same conditions as yesterday. He texts back and offers to pick me up to surf Venice. I can tell that he really wants to hang out, plus my own guilt is resonating—I did say that I’d surf with him today. A man’s only as good as his word, right? 

     Rick and his brother John pick me up, and all three of us make our way to Manhattan Beach. Rick’s got his own crew of friends (WHC) and family that he surfs with, mostly guys from Venice that grew up during the “Dog Town” era. Their era definitely produced some good surfers because even the oldest WHC guys rip. 

     We find free parking on Highland, right next to their homeboy Chris. Chris donated some clothes for me to take to Bali; he’s a cool dude. I reach in my board bag and realize I forgot my leash; it’s stashed in my wagon. Whenever I ride with other people I tend to forget shit. Klaude drives by and parks nearby. He doesn’t have an extra leash so I call Francis who’s on his way. 

     The lineup isn’t ridiculously crowded yet, and surprisingly there are enough gaps between surfers to have some room for yourself. Everyone is in the water except Klaude and I. He tries to get me to paddle out, but I don’t want to be “that guy” who tries to be badass by surfing leashless and repeatedly loses his board. Eventually I give-in and paddle out. CC’s out there with her yoga buddy, and she samples Rick’s fish because she’s interested in buying one. Rick rides my old Becker board, a 6’10 that I sold to CC. That board has so much meat on it that it’s almost too easy for Rick. With the tide getting higher the surf is actually getting better, and Rick is exploiting the conditions. Ride after ride, he’s taking them all the way to the inside. Rick’s that guy who announce all his rides and how stoked he is, so I need to start catching some of my own as well. 

     When Francis shows I strap on the leash. The waves turn mooshy, but they have shape, racy shape. I catch a handful of waves, no turns, but it’s still fun. It’s one of those laid back South Bay mornings where you can put your performance to the side and just enjoy being on the wave. 

     I change spots to where Rick’s crew is surfing, further north. It looks flat, but surprise sets form unexpectedly. We’re all caught off guard, scratching to the outside to either dodge or paddle in. I get my longest left of the day. Jimmy almost drops in on me, but I pump my way past the spill and stay on the face. The whole wave is a pumper, but I manage one baby turn off the lip towards the inside. Rick’s brother John and I paddle for this peaky right. He has priority, but he says, “Go ahead, Donny!” I can’t believe he’s being this generous, as I feel the wave letting me in I hear, “Whoa!” It’s John. I pull back at the last minute to avoid the collision. I guess it’s the thought that counts. 

     I can’t manage a wave in my memory that stands out as “thee wave,” but it’s nothing like the walled closeouts from Christmas; there’s shape. At the two hour mark we all leave. Surf is followed up by breakfast at The Blue Butterfly in El Segundo with Rick, John, Chris, and Dave T. Surprisingly, their Holly Street Bagel is pretty filling for being under four bucks. We’re all stoked over the morning’s session. After a streak of walled surf in the South Bay, this current swell is more ideal and characteristic of the local surf that we label as “ours.” It’s a reminder of why I decided to live in El Segundo in the first place. No, it’s not a world class wave, but it can get good. I hope we have more days like this to come.