Crew: Francis
Time: 0830-1130, 3 hrs
Conditions: 4 ft with occasional 5, fast, racy, some closeouts, but some good shape too. Offshore to glassy for the whole session. Sunny, beautiful early winter morning.
Last week I paid the price for my San Fran staycation; I was behind in homework. Also, I had military obligations this past weekend, so I had to get even more stuff done too. Finally, after returning from training up north and putting a cap on a long week from last Sunday to this Sunday . . . I can surf.
The surf forecast looked good for the local breaks. However, it rained hard up north on Sunday, and I heard that El Segundo was hit hard too. I expected Manhattan Beach to be a septic tank. But as my surf mentor Rick said about tampon flavored water, “Only paddle out if there are waves.”
I wake up to take my niece to school. Looking at my phone I see that I missed a text from Francis: “We go surf tomorrow?!” I’m surprised at his message. It rained really hard, and I didn’t expect that anyone else would want to risk swimming in oil and dog shit. After I make my delivery I head down to Parks. It’s a sunny morning, the flags are blowing offshore, and I see heads in the water as I park up the hill. I’m unaware on what the swell is doing at first, but once I’m half way into my wetsuit, I see a set come in. The waves don’t appear to have shape and close out, but what sticks out most are the three horizontal lines that indicate the wave size for the morning; it’s going to be good.
Francis drives up, and I tell him that I’ll meet him at the tower. The sand is still wet from yesterday’s rain, but the scenery is pure, classic South Bay. It’s sunny, the sky’s a radiant blue, a few seagulls soar overhead, Palos Verdes is clear in the distance, the beige sand is bright under the sun, and the offshore wind is so light that the air is calm. Now that I’m closer, I can see that the waves don’t have the best shape, but out of the fast, racy rides I can make out some shoulders that look rideable. Either way, it looks consistent, there’s size, and there’s potential. Francis comes down to join me. He tells me that Sunday’s surf sucked, but that they went to a local surf shop for fifty percent off on gear through a hook-up.
I haven’t surfed in over a week, so to be honest, I’m a little nervous at how rusty I might be. Surprisingly, I make it to the lineup with dry hair. I paddle for my first wave but back out when I see that it’s closing. Francis draws first blood while I sit and remain picky for something with shape. For nearly the first hour, I don’t catch anything with significance. I eat shit on a couple waves, manage to get a weak top turn on a right, and most of my rides are closeouts.
With the tide dropping, the second hour gets fun. Occasional peaks roll through with good definition and shape, some as big as five feet. I get my wave of the day in the form of a left, and just like I’ve been working on lately, the recipe follows: drop in, make the section, bottom turn, out stretch arms, rotate trunk downwards, shift weight on board to set inside rail and push on tail, carving arc on the face, redirect board, pump, and try again. I recently read a Trans World Surf article that states “backside top turns are more powerful,” so even though I’m not getting the front side spray that I’d like, I’m really happy that I can now claim to have a forehand turn, which turns my one-trick pony into a two-trick pony.
On one of my paddles back out, I duckdive a wave and see that the sand is only a few feet below me. The wave yanks my board as I hold on, and when I resurface my rail hits me in the chin. I’m a little rattled and humbled. There is less thought about the next couple waves that I pass up; I do it gladly. The inside is getting a little dangerous. The decent size and low tide is creating punchy and drained out surf. I get mostly rights this morning, but I only stick two landings after my top turns. On all the others, the waves get so vertical on my down turns that I keep purling on the reentry. On one purl, I slam into the water as if diving headfirst, ramming my shoulder square into the sand bottom. Despite the inability to finish the rides, they seem like critical, last second heroics. On one wave especially, I climb the face as the wave stands up, crack the lip, and ditch my board right before the pitch. I resurface feeling triumphant, but over the back I see Francis getting barreled for about four seconds. He’s caving it, hunkered down in the little hollow slot. He takes it until he gets pinched. “I saw that!” I say to him as he resurfaces.
Francis’ barrel shows me the day’s potential. I catch a big left, drop in, fade out, but the curtain’s already come down. I drop in on my next right, grab rail, and tuck in close to the face, but the wave isn’t even going hollow yet. I’m forcing it! I paddle back to Francis, and he tells me that since it’s beach break I need to paddle in at the peak. After a couple more failed attempts, I conclude that “forcing a barrel” is not the way to get barreled. Francis has clocked in most of his surf time on Oahu; he just knows what to do and has the experience. I can’t “force” that.
Every time we think about leaving, another good wave comes. Once we’re into the third hour, Francis says that he’s gonna call it. “One more wave!” I tell him. Lately, my “last waves” have been fifteen minute windows of terrible shape or straight lulls. The next set comes right away, and the first wave is a nice, peaky left. As I’m bottom turning I can see that this little four footer has a little slot in it, but I’m already committed to setting up for a carve. The feeling is becoming familiar. Off the top of the shoulder, I’m arcing back down with my heel on the tail, twisting my torso, and coming down the face with speed. These used to be half ass turns, but they feel so much smoother now. I rarely end a session with a wave like this, so I get to the sand stoked and smiling with no complaints.
The waves weren’t perfect today, but the good waves that did come through made the session worthwhile, especially combined with the offshore conditions. Last Wednesday my girlfriend came home from work and saw how stressed out I was. She said, “I’ve noticed you study better on the days that you surf.” This type of balance is necessary.
