SAUCE PAN SUNDAY: SUN 5.1.2011 MOR
CREW: Klaude, Dais, Christina, Shan, and Lina
FLAKES OF THE DAY: None
RAN INTO: Manny and Mike A.
TIME: 0700 - 0830, 1 hr. & 30 min.
CONDITIONS: Windy, frigid temp water, one to two feet surf, inconsistent.
Lina’s name, Along with Jonathan M., graces the pages of the first surf blogs that I wrote years ago. She was part of the original crew that I first started surfing with. Since then, she’s made the move to the gully streets of NY. During her short visit in LA, she asked if we could hit the water.
Similar to Thursday, the wind was already apparent from my apartment in El Segundo. I text her and gave her the forewarning that the conditions may not be that great. We parked by 26th and met up with Shan. The surf looked horribly weak, but we thought we’d give it a try. All three of us paddled out just north of 26th. Shan and I caught waves consecutively. Lina had a nice little “welcome back to the South Bay” wipeout. Lina asked for some pointers, and Shan obliged.
I saw Christina in the water, but she didn’t have much luck either. There was a long lull without the water doing much of anything. By 0830 we caught our last waves, and that’s when Dais and Klaude showed up. I wished them the best, but I was done. Dais showed up and almost put us all to shame. He was only wearing board shorts without a wet suit. Even though the weather has been warm, that Sunday morning was the wrong day to trunk it. By the time I got to my car, Dais was walking up the hill to borrow my wetsuit.
Friday, May 6, 2011
THE MORNING BOG: SAT 4.30.2011 MOR
CREW: Klaude, Dais, Francis, Cheryl, Christina, and Khang
FLAKES OF THE DAY: None
RAN INTO: Gary
TIME: 0700 - 00945, 2 hrs. & 45 min.
CONDITIONS: Light offshore, clean and pristine conditions, sunny, clear, blue skies, mid to high tide, lack of swell, burgery.
Klaude and I agreed to stay local due to our studies. I woke up a little later than planned, but still managed to score a free parking spot close to Rosecrans. Apparently, Dais, Klaude, and Khang were searching for parking too. I changed in the middle of the residential homes in the quiet morning hours when two surfers started yelling across the street in conversation. I cringed at this, and I felt bad for the people still sleeping in their homes all around us.
Time check 0650, I walked around the corner from my car and see my friends pouring out of Klaude’s van. What a coincidence, I thought. I got introduced to Khang for the first time. He just moved back to L.A. after some soul searching that he did in Texas. He had his green fish ready to make up for lost time.
When we got to the sand we didn’t even make it to 26th. Just north of it, there were a couple clean peaks that were working. We watched a couple clean shoulders roll by, and Khang let out a couple hoots of enthusiasm. There was no need to walk further.
I commented on how the conditions cleaned up compared to my previous sesh. The surf was not big that morning or even “good,” but the atmosphere was the epitome of a South Bay morning; it was summer.
As I paddled out I saw this guy on a Bonzer pumping down the line, going left. I turned to see who it was, and it was Gary. We exchanged greetings. He had already been there for an hour and said that the rising tide was killing it. I told the rest of the boys he was with us, but Khang was a little too far away for the introduction.
I got a couple waves, but they bogged out right after the drop in; they were barely three feet California scale. I think Dais got a wave, and we all cheered him on.
Gary turned to me and said, “Now that’s what I love to see, people that come out here to surf that are truly stoked for their friends to catch a wave.”
He then caught his last wave in, and it was just us slackers with the anonymous crowd. It got even more frustrating as the morning pressed on. Khang was in the thick of the crowd to our north, and Klaude and Dais waited for the inside waves. I thought about the rest of the crew that might be at 26th, so I paddled with the current until I noticed Christina in the water. She didn’t see me. I threw up my hand to get her attention, and that’s when I noticed Francis right in front of me. Soon we were all together, but I can’t say that we were trading off on waves. Cheryl showed up close to 0900 and joined us too.
The main peak had a lot of heads on it, and people were scattered all throughout the beach break. At the two hour and forty-five minute mark, I couldn’t take the cold any more, especially since the waves weren’t rolling in. Klaude and Francis opted for some body surfing while I rested by Christina. The beach was just starting to get packed, even the lifeguard juniors were out there training.
When Klaude was done body surfing, he had what looked like strawberry syrup dripping from the bottom of his nose and face. He said he hit the sand bottom on accident. He took it like a man, but I thought the blood was a little brutal. Everyone else paddled out again, but I had other obligations to tend to. The session wasn’t about good waves, it
FLAKES OF THE DAY: None
RAN INTO: Gary
TIME: 0700 - 00945, 2 hrs. & 45 min.
CONDITIONS: Light offshore, clean and pristine conditions, sunny, clear, blue skies, mid to high tide, lack of swell, burgery.
Klaude and I agreed to stay local due to our studies. I woke up a little later than planned, but still managed to score a free parking spot close to Rosecrans. Apparently, Dais, Klaude, and Khang were searching for parking too. I changed in the middle of the residential homes in the quiet morning hours when two surfers started yelling across the street in conversation. I cringed at this, and I felt bad for the people still sleeping in their homes all around us.
Time check 0650, I walked around the corner from my car and see my friends pouring out of Klaude’s van. What a coincidence, I thought. I got introduced to Khang for the first time. He just moved back to L.A. after some soul searching that he did in Texas. He had his green fish ready to make up for lost time.
When we got to the sand we didn’t even make it to 26th. Just north of it, there were a couple clean peaks that were working. We watched a couple clean shoulders roll by, and Khang let out a couple hoots of enthusiasm. There was no need to walk further.
I commented on how the conditions cleaned up compared to my previous sesh. The surf was not big that morning or even “good,” but the atmosphere was the epitome of a South Bay morning; it was summer.
As I paddled out I saw this guy on a Bonzer pumping down the line, going left. I turned to see who it was, and it was Gary. We exchanged greetings. He had already been there for an hour and said that the rising tide was killing it. I told the rest of the boys he was with us, but Khang was a little too far away for the introduction.
I got a couple waves, but they bogged out right after the drop in; they were barely three feet California scale. I think Dais got a wave, and we all cheered him on.
Gary turned to me and said, “Now that’s what I love to see, people that come out here to surf that are truly stoked for their friends to catch a wave.”
He then caught his last wave in, and it was just us slackers with the anonymous crowd. It got even more frustrating as the morning pressed on. Khang was in the thick of the crowd to our north, and Klaude and Dais waited for the inside waves. I thought about the rest of the crew that might be at 26th, so I paddled with the current until I noticed Christina in the water. She didn’t see me. I threw up my hand to get her attention, and that’s when I noticed Francis right in front of me. Soon we were all together, but I can’t say that we were trading off on waves. Cheryl showed up close to 0900 and joined us too.
The main peak had a lot of heads on it, and people were scattered all throughout the beach break. At the two hour and forty-five minute mark, I couldn’t take the cold any more, especially since the waves weren’t rolling in. Klaude and Francis opted for some body surfing while I rested by Christina. The beach was just starting to get packed, even the lifeguard juniors were out there training.
When Klaude was done body surfing, he had what looked like strawberry syrup dripping from the bottom of his nose and face. He said he hit the sand bottom on accident. He took it like a man, but I thought the blood was a little brutal. Everyone else paddled out again, but I had other obligations to tend to. The session wasn’t about good waves, it
I HAVE TO BE GRATEFUL: THU 4.28.2011 MOR
I HAVE TO BE GRATEFUL: THU 4.28.2011 MOR
CREW: Solo
FLAKES OF THE DAY: None
RAN INTO: No one
TIME: 0700 - 0800, 1 hr.
CONDITIONS: Early morning onshore wind with choppy and disorganized swell.
Something came over me, and I had to try to do a morning sesh to start the day. I filled up my water jugs and walked outside my apartment. I noticed that the leaves on the trees were already rustling about. I knew that meant bad news. Sure as hell, the American flag was blowing like a battle streamer at the lookout point. However, when I pulled into the Porto lot, things still looked doable. Despite the choppy conditions, I saw some crumbling three foot, right hand shoulders in front of the tanks. The lot wasn’t crowded yet, but I thought that Parks would be the call. I scored a free parking spot and walked out to take a look. The swell produced some surf, but the water was just too disorganized. There were some guys at the 26th St. peak, and they were cranking out a couple turns on the sloppy, chest high waves. They looked a little racy, but I was sold.
I made it to the water at about 0700. My paddle strength diminished since the last time I paddled out and from the lack of time I’ve had in the water. After duckdiving at least four waves, I finally made it to the line. It wasn’t a crowded morning. I could see people watching from the shore, wondering if it was worth it or not. There were more people debating on what to do than people in the water.
My first wave, a right, came pretty fast. But that was the problem, it was too fast. The sloppy right had me fighting for balance the whole time, and it closed out as soon as I got composure. My second wave was the same, another right. After that I got a couple close outs. It was an unpredictable and uneasy morning; there was no way in telling what the ocean was gonna do next. It wasn’t big, maybe chest high on the bigger sets, but some random rogue waves would break outside the line up. It was like there was no sweet spot: either you were too far out or too much in the inside.
I was just about ready to call it a morning, but I saw that I hadn’t even been out an hour yet, so I at least waited until 0800. My last wave looked like a close out, but it was a left that I took all the way to the inside.
I was pretty upset at the conditions. I saw Bruce with his binos and the rest of his crew hanging out at the meters. I changed, grabbed my camera, and caught a second look. For some reason, the wind switched from onshore to off, and the conditions started to clean up a little bit. Either way, I was done for the morning. Some guys were walking to the water, and they asked Bruce if he was going out.
Bruce replied, “I haven’t seen one good wave out there yet!”
I suppose he was right, but I do recall one significant thing. I recall the way that the sun lit up the sand at that very morning hour. The hues of dark blue, light blue, and carbonated white wash, combined with the cool morning air reminded me of something. Last year, during this exact time, I came home for my two weeks of leave from Iraq. The conditions were shitty then too, but I didn’t care. I precisely remember. I was just so glad to be home in the South Bay. The salt water air was no different one year ago. I leaned on the 26th St. railing, looked out at the ocean before me, and I thanked God that I was home.
CREW: Solo
FLAKES OF THE DAY: None
RAN INTO: No one
TIME: 0700 - 0800, 1 hr.
CONDITIONS: Early morning onshore wind with choppy and disorganized swell.
Something came over me, and I had to try to do a morning sesh to start the day. I filled up my water jugs and walked outside my apartment. I noticed that the leaves on the trees were already rustling about. I knew that meant bad news. Sure as hell, the American flag was blowing like a battle streamer at the lookout point. However, when I pulled into the Porto lot, things still looked doable. Despite the choppy conditions, I saw some crumbling three foot, right hand shoulders in front of the tanks. The lot wasn’t crowded yet, but I thought that Parks would be the call. I scored a free parking spot and walked out to take a look. The swell produced some surf, but the water was just too disorganized. There were some guys at the 26th St. peak, and they were cranking out a couple turns on the sloppy, chest high waves. They looked a little racy, but I was sold.
I made it to the water at about 0700. My paddle strength diminished since the last time I paddled out and from the lack of time I’ve had in the water. After duckdiving at least four waves, I finally made it to the line. It wasn’t a crowded morning. I could see people watching from the shore, wondering if it was worth it or not. There were more people debating on what to do than people in the water.
My first wave, a right, came pretty fast. But that was the problem, it was too fast. The sloppy right had me fighting for balance the whole time, and it closed out as soon as I got composure. My second wave was the same, another right. After that I got a couple close outs. It was an unpredictable and uneasy morning; there was no way in telling what the ocean was gonna do next. It wasn’t big, maybe chest high on the bigger sets, but some random rogue waves would break outside the line up. It was like there was no sweet spot: either you were too far out or too much in the inside.
I was just about ready to call it a morning, but I saw that I hadn’t even been out an hour yet, so I at least waited until 0800. My last wave looked like a close out, but it was a left that I took all the way to the inside.
I was pretty upset at the conditions. I saw Bruce with his binos and the rest of his crew hanging out at the meters. I changed, grabbed my camera, and caught a second look. For some reason, the wind switched from onshore to off, and the conditions started to clean up a little bit. Either way, I was done for the morning. Some guys were walking to the water, and they asked Bruce if he was going out.
Bruce replied, “I haven’t seen one good wave out there yet!”
I suppose he was right, but I do recall one significant thing. I recall the way that the sun lit up the sand at that very morning hour. The hues of dark blue, light blue, and carbonated white wash, combined with the cool morning air reminded me of something. Last year, during this exact time, I came home for my two weeks of leave from Iraq. The conditions were shitty then too, but I didn’t care. I precisely remember. I was just so glad to be home in the South Bay. The salt water air was no different one year ago. I leaned on the 26th St. railing, looked out at the ocean before me, and I thanked God that I was home.
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