Crew: Francis, Christina, Klaude, Dais, Khang, Tom, Cheryl
Time: 0615-0930, 3 hrs & 15 min
Conditions: 3-4 ft, occasional close outs on bigger sets, extreme high tide, nice weather, and crowded.
Pre Blog:
I’m catching up on documenting my sessions a week late. School is kicking my ass, but it’s really all my fault. Too much surf, not enough studying, poor balance, and you end up with a traffic jam of assignments right before finals. These entries will be short, as my memory has severely faded.
Thanksgiving Sesh:
I can’t remember if I surfed the day before, but if my memory serves me right, Wednesday must have been small or something like that. Thursday’s forecast had a horrible window. The high tide was just under seven feet, and the mid tide window was already closed at first light. The night prior, I sent out the mass text for the holiday text. Rick said, “It shouldn’t be that crowded; everyone should be out of town.” I wasn’t so optimistic.
I arrived before first light and snagged a free spot on the hill. Francis drove up and stopped to chat, but I told him that I was taking my time since it was still dark. We walked down the hill together at about 0600. I love being there that early in the morning—first dibs. The ocean was still dark, but three guys were already in the lineup: Don, his friend whose name I don’t know, and another local guy. The tide was rising, but it was still low enough to produce some good peaks. “I’ll see you out there!” said Francis. He didn’t waste any time. I didn’t feel too rushed being that it was still dark, so I warmed up for a couple minutes before I followed suit.
It was promising. I wondered if Rick was right. There we were, just five guys with the lineup all to ourselves. My first couple waves weren’t good. I ate shit on a left, and I fell on my top-turn going right. “How was that?” asked Francis.
“Eh . . . it was all right. I could’ve rode it better.”
I’ve been in a weird surf funk lately. Everyone else got rides, but nothing of significance happened in my surf world. In the horizon a juicy left formed. It was a plus set, but it actually had shape and lined up well. A local guy was in Francis’ inside, but he looked Francis dead in the eyes, signaling that he wasn’t going to go. Francis turned, saw me, and perhaps felt my desperation. “Go, Matt!” he said.
Fuckin’ thank you! Being in a good spot, I turned and dropped in with ease. My turns felt rusty, and I didn’t have a smooth bottom to top transition, but I still managed to take the wave a distance. It wasn’t a good performance on my part, but the wave itself was nice.
From the lineup, Francis and I looked towards the sand and saw some longboarders warming up, looking, and pointing in our direction. It was barely forty-five minutes from when we paddled out, and the break was already getting crowded.
Christina showed up next. When the sun came up, Khang, Dais, Klaude, and Tom arrived. I think Francis was gone by this time because he had to work (super heroes don’t get holidays off). The typical Thanksgiving convo started. Some of us had simple plans to go home and eat with family. Dais, Tom, and I had to go over our girlfriends’ families’ homes.
I expected for the conditions to get worse as the tide rose, but there were still waves to be had with unexpected rogue sets in the mix. The main problem was the crowd; so many people! We were dropping in on each other too. I know for sure on one wave I saw Dais drop in on Klaude. I had a hell of a frustrating session. Either I was the problem or the waves were. I had the hardest time sticking single turns or my waves were too racy.
However, I do remember the wave of the day clearly. It was a good right that rolled through. I thought that Klaude was too deep for it when he disappeared, but as the wave peeled away I saw him over the back on his top turn. He hit the lip and got a small bucket-toss. He kept going and got at least one more turn on the inside before the ride ended. Of course, I was jealous. I wanted a ride like that, but more importantly, it’s nice to see the fruits of our consistency. None of us can do airs; that’s for sure. Francis is the only one out of us that gets barreled, but at least most of us are starting to get our turns down; that’s progress.
It was nearing 0930, and I had leave to start the day’s festivities. Local veteran Bruce was sitting outside when a right formed, but he didn’t go. Khang was on my inside, and we were both paddling for it. Rightfully, Khang had priority, so I said, “Go for it!”
“Go, Matt!”
Damn, is it Christmas already? What generosity. I really don’t know why he didn’t go. He was a little deep, but he could’ve made it. Either way, thank you, Khang! Dais was paddling over the shoulder as I slid down the face. He hooted me as we passed each other. It was a frustrating sesh, and as I bottom turned I made a conscious effort not to blow this one. I managed a steep, vertical climb back up the face, snapped the top, and re-entered just as fast. FINALLY. The rest of the wave didn’t line up immaculately, but that first turn followed by a sloppy second was more than enough to sustain me; really, it was all about that snap. Back in shallow water I turned to find Dais’ gaze one me. He threw both of his hands up with fingers outstretched—10. Every surfer aims to end his session with a good wave. This one sent me back up the hill with a smile. Even better, I had worked up an appetite that would make any girlfriend’s mother proud; it was turkey time!
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