THE NEW SWELL: FRI 20JAN2012 MOR

Crew: Francis

Time: 0900-1100

Conditions: Offshore, high to mid tide, inconsistent, 2-3 feet with occasional 4, mooshy, and slow.

     So none of us have surfed since Sunday because of the lack of swell. I would have to say that local surf has been fairly decent since Thanksgiving. In other words, there has been a pulse of swell somewhere. Regardless of shape, if surf hasn’t been good local, it’s pretty much been only a drive away. However, the swell this week has been flat and around the one-to-three foot range with poor conditions. According to Surfline, this Friday the swell’s supposed to pick up again, and we’ve been itching for that to happen.

Welcome Home:

     The last surf I got was in Santa Cruz, so I was going a little stir-crazy in the house, for a minute there, finding other stuff to keep me occupied. Finally I can be myself again; I can be human.

     Driving down Grand Ave. I can see the waves breaking in front of the lot. This is usually a good sign; if the waves are breaking here then Manhattan Beach must be breaking decent. I can’t quite make-out the waves by the jetty, but as I pass El Porto I can see scattered peaks. I call Francis, who’s still at home, and tell him that the morning surf looks to have some potential.

     Street cleaning is on Friday, so I circle around for a good fifteen minutes. It’s okay to park at 0900, but it’s only 0830; I really want to just paddle out already. I get that weird sense that something’s off, and then it hits me; I forgot my fucking wetsuit again. I go through my loud, audible “Awwwww fucks,” and drive my ass back home to grab my shit. On a good note, it’s 0850 when I get back, and I get the best parking by the lifeguard station. Francis parks behind me, and we make our way to the water.

     Local knowledge will tell you that the sand bars are just a hair better at Porto, and for this morning it makes all the difference. The waves here are a little mooshier and inconsistent, and then again . . . it beats having to feed a fucking meter. Don and the locals are just north of the tower, but it’s still a thin crowd. The tide is high and about to start going out, so expect the surf to get better. Towards Marine, we eye a sand bar that has a couple guys on it. We go there.

     A nice left rolls in as we warm up, but once we reach the lineup we’re greeted by a long lull. A couple pulses push through, we paddle for them, but they are so mooshy that they break towards the inside. We move around and sit in different spots to try our luck. I finally catch a couple rights, but I can’t seem to set myself up for a good turn. Partly because of the rust and partly because of the conditions, I’m only trimming on all of my rides. Despite the mediocre surf, I’m feeling pretty mellow. I’m not upset or cursing my performance, but I’m not super-stoked at the same time. After recent experiences, I’ve been working on my attitude in the water, and I’m just going with the flow and taking everything for what it’s worth.

     Even though the surf is slow, Francis gets a long left all the way to shore, a three turn wave. Even going right, he throws a “one bucket minimum” out the back, so I can’t blame the conditions entirely. My best ride is a left where I’m able to get one semi carve. I know this carve that I do; it’s so half-ass. Instead of a full arch off the top, using mostly rail, it’s more of a tail push which points my nose to six o’clock. It’s my foot positioning; I’m too far up on my board. Francis tells me I got a little spray off of that, but I know I could do better. . . . Work on it.

     Even close to mid tide, the conditions don’t improve like we hoped. They actually get worse. The inside is a little consistent with white wash, and now there’s onshore texture on the water. Walking back to the shower, we both joke that it’s at least a nice day. Regardless, there’s a swell a’brewin’, and it’s only gonna get bigger.

     Later at home, Khang calls and says that he and DK paddled out at Porto. He says it was crowded, but it was just “all right,” so if Porto was better then it wasn’t by very much.

     Before going to bed, I get confirmation from Al that he’s driving over tomorrow morning to catch the morning session and spend the weekend here. There’s a frenzy for surf. Khang, Klaude, Rick, Dais, Shan, Francis, and I are all communicating about what time we’re gonna meet up. I don’t realize that there’s a chance of rain until Klaude brings it up in conversation. He says, “They say it’s pretty much guaranteed to rain here.” It hasn’t rained in so long that I can’t fathom it. The Surfer Syndrome (SS) has me thinking, how bad can it be? Maybe the rain will miss us or we’ll have a good rain session. Yup . . . how bad can it be, indeed?