BONKERS, TUE 03JAN2012 MOR

Crew: Fransauce & Dave

Time: ?

Conditions: 3-4 ft, Sunny, warm, clean, offshore, closeouts, low tide.

     Yesterday the whole crew was out surfing, but I stayed up a little too late on the MW3 to wake up in time. I justified it by telling myself I needed the rest and slept in. On this morning the plan is to meet up with Khang at 26^th, we’re expecting a big west swell in the South Bay, so we’re anticipating big surf with the possibility of massive closeouts. However, he sends me a text saying that the surf doesn’t look so good, and he’s gonna save himself for tomorrow. Since Francis, Dave, and I missed the get-together yesterday, we decide to paddle out no matter how crappy the surf is; we just wanna get wet. I haven’t seen Dave in a while. He says he’s been sick, working, and going through the holiday motions. 

     Even through the surf isn’t that big, the waves are closing out. On top of that, the rapidly dropping tide is killing the shape. The majority of the rides are closeouts, but there are some rare shoulders. On one left, it’s fast, but I’m able to pull-in before it closes out. It’s only three feet, but I get under the lip and really close to the face for an imitation barrel. It’s a sight I barely get to see: the building wave down the line and another surfer sitting in the lineup looking right at me. If only I could make it out, but I get pinched. One thing that worries me about going for closeout barrels is the awkward wipeouts. In this case, my board and I tumble together, and I end up doing one of those slow motion underwater back flips. This catches me by surprise because of how small the wave was, and then the back of my head hits the sand. I hear that internal “thud.” Also, the sand feels more like hard, compacted dirt. I resurface rubbing my head; I haven’t had one of those in a while. I go back to the lineup and tell the boys to be careful.

     It’s a small victory, but enough that it’s worth a mention. I actually pull off one turn on a right. Again, it’s a small wave, but I pull off a top-turn just as the lip is about to throw out. I’m realizing that I never stick these reentries, and I’m always purling on my late top-turns. Instead, I miraculously keep my nose out of the water, accidentally redirect back into the oncoming white wash, stand, and look back. No one else knows how big of a feat this is for me, but I’m still smiling at these guys whether they know where my stoke’s from or not.

     I catch a closeout straight, the whitewash gobbles up my tail, and I end up having one of those unexpected falls. I guess the closeout drained out the inside because I hit the back of my head again, hard, as I fall off my board. Paddling back to the lineup I feel a light headache starting on my frontal lobe. Francis says, “Hey, I think I’m done.” It’s a good call; it’s getting dangerous. 

     We walk back up the hill, glad to have surfed but with nothing to light a match and stomp our feet about. Francis comes over in the evening to play some MW3. While playing Khang calls. Since the swell’s expected to be in full swing tomorrow, we all plan to look at Manhattan Beach first. If it’s closed out then we’ll figure out our next move. Khang suggests Palos Verdes before we get off the phone. “PV, isn’t it localized over there?” Francis says.

     “Yeah, that’s what they say.”

     “You ever surfed there before?”

     “No, I don’t even know where to go.”

     “Yeah, I don’t know . . . kinda don’t want to deal with that if it’s localized.

     “Maybe we’ll go with Rick one day, and he can show us around.”

     We know for sure that the swell will be here tomorrow; hopefully it’s rideable.