THE NEW FRANCISES, MON 09JULY2012 MOR

Crew: Khang

Time: 0845-1015

Conditions: 2-3 FT, low tide, inconsistent, light onshore, semi crowded.

     I send a mass text to Shan, Cheryl, and Khang. Shan never responds. Cheryl says she has work in the morning, and Khang . . . he says, “I’ll be there.” Reminds me of Fran-Sauce, the guy who was always down to surf every day as much as possible, no matter what the conditions, but now our DRC is faced with a void since his move to Oahu. Next to me, Khang is the one with an open schedule to surf, so we have to keep a couple pacts. One, we have to keep the DRC together, as it’s what Francis told KK in Oahu. Two, I have to be Khang’s Francis, and he has to be mine.

#

     I’m running late. Usually I like to catch the early window to surf, but low tide is at 0800. It’s 0830 when I’m on the freeway. Khang calls, says 26^th looks like filth, so he’s checking out Porto. “I’ll meet you there,” I say.

     It’s a typical Porto morning. Parking spaces are available by the bathrooms, which is reasonable since the South Bay isn’t getting any of the south swell. We step out of our vehicles and watch the surf. “What do you think?” he says.

     It looks small and crumbly, but there are still some little two foot shoulders. “It looks okay over there?” I point towards the stacks.

     We change and hit the sand. Khang and I are a little indecisive but decide on the sandwich shack, in between two peaks. The current starts taking us towards the bathrooms. Khang draws first blood, but his wave is a closer. The shape’s not so great. There are waves, but in between them are lulls with doubled-up waves that deceivingly break towards the inside. Here and there, some good three-footers come out the back.

#

My Wave of the Day:

     A walled left rolls in, and I’m right on the shoulder. No one’s on my inside. As I pop up, it’s choppy, but it’s lining up just right. I’ve been watching a lot of surf porn. One of my favorite free surfers is Dion Agius. I try to emulate his style as I pump down the line. I feel fast, speed is building, but I still suck so don’t even THINK that I’m setting up for an air. My arms are out, and my body prepares for a hard frontside snap; I’m talking a solid bucket of spray. I do a shallow bottom turn, twist my body, and set up for the carve, but I’m sloppy. My intentions get the best of me, and as hard as I want to hit this lip, my thoughts don’t translate well into action. I still get a carve, but my feet are caught between pumping and planting, so I don’t get the max power out of the motion. Regardless, it’s still a sign of improvement; it still felt good. I’m beginning to think ahead of the turn, like I can see myself doing what I want to do, like how I know I can put power on the tail going backside, I know I’m getting close to doing it forehand. I just got too excited, put on a little too much mustard, and the hot dog fell out. In time . . . in time . . . almost.

#

     Khang gets a good wave too, but I can’t remember if it was a left or a right, but I do remember seeing some water toss out the back, and he makes the sections all the way until the ride ends.

     Even though we paddled out to an empty spot, surfers to our north catch-on and crowd our space. Just then I get another left. I don’t turn because it’s too racy, but a guy on a green board on my outside backs out of it when he sees me coming. Green Board follows me back to my spot. I feel the negative energy radiating off of him. He’s frustrated for a wave, and I took a potential one from him. I paddle north to get away from him, and on my way there, a peak comes my way again. I split the peak and go right, and Green Board has to pull-out once more. I guess it just comes to show: be patient, stay positive.

#

     Khang and I talk about how we’re due up for some good surf. I see it in Khang’s face. I know that look. It’s desperation.

     It reads: I haven’t had a solid two hour session of good surf in a long fuck-ing time.

     We throw out ideas of traveling for some south swell in the near future.

#

     The tide push improves conditions. More rideable waves come out the back. We were ready to call the last one in, but now we’re milking the meters to the last minute. Khang has to go to work, and as much as I’d like to stay out longer, I have a huge list of errands to take care of today. We change out in the parking lot, saying we’ll surf again soon. I know we will. He’s reliable and always stoked to surf. Gotta keep the spirit of Fran-Sauce alive. 

Entertaining eating my breakfast, watching all the guys horndog the chicks behind the counter. -- Blue Butterfly, El Segundo