Loc: 26th
Crew: Khang
& Francis
Time: 0700-0930,
2.5 hrs.
Conditions:
3 FT, inconsistent, crowded, light onshore, south current.
EUOLOGY:
Since Francis is moving back to Oahu, he
already shipped his truck. Without a ride, I offered to pick him up for
Friday’s session. The plan was to surf at first light, but realistically, I
told him I’d pick him up six, six-thirty.
To make things easier on myself, I prepped
my gear the night before. After I loaded up my wetsuit and towel, I grabbed my
6’1 DMS. When I picked it up, water started dripping down my leg. Its weight
was still off. Upon examining where the water came from, I noticed that both
sides of the board were cracked on top of the deck, from the rail working
inward in a perpendicular line. The cracks were deep, all the way to the fiber
glass. Water dripped out every time I tilted the board. I took it outside and
laid it on the driveway in disbelief. It's the same board that my brother gave
me about five years ago. He was over the board. I was a serious barney back
then, riding the 7’10 NSP, the one with gay ass flames on it. “Just keep it
around,” said Randy, “use it as motivation for something to work up to.” When
my medium board, the Becker, had a ding, I rode the DMS for my first time. I
thought I was a legit shortboarder. I took it to Porto, not being able to turn
on it, thinking I was surfing when all I was doing was standing. Only now,
years later have I finally got to the point where I feel comfortable on the
DMS, and last night in the driveway it sat, laid out, like a wounded comrade.
The lamination on the deck was already loose, a goner. I rode it to its last
leg. It must’ve been that wipeout that I took yesterday where the wave bottomed
out. I’m a sentimental sucker who puts sentimental value on things that may not
be worth much to others. For me, it wasn’t only my first shortboard, but a
board given to me by my surf hero. It will be missed.
It’s the end of the DMS era. Now enter the
6’0 Tokoro.
NATURE’S
GEL:
It’s 0600. I have to get up. Since my car’s
already packed, I brush my teeth and head out the door. There’s no traffic on
405 N yet. I exit Washington and head to Charnock to pick up Francis. From
there I hit 90W, missing the left turn on Culver, circling back, and finally
making the drive down Vista Del Mar. The view over Dockweiler doesn’t look
promising. The waves look small and crumbly, but we’re hoping that 26th
looks better.
When we pull up to the meters, Khang’s
already there with an empty spot next to him. It’s the last Friday session that
we’ll have with Francis for a while, so I snap a pic. We have a solid hour
before the meter maids come, so we waste no time and head to the sand.
The main peak is working, but we head a
little north where two more peaks offer a left and a right, so we decide to
paddle out in between both of them. I take a piss in my wetsuit while we’re
warming up. Since Khang detests pissing in your wetsuit (because he thinks it’s
gross), I pull the neoprene away from my ankle and say, “Khang, look!”
“Illll,” he says as he gives me a sour look
of disapproval.
“What, you think it’s nasty? You think this
is nasty?” I cup my piss in my hand and start rubbing it in my hair. “Do you
think I can get a sidecomb?” I start parting it.
“Dude, you’re fuckin’ gross.”
Francis is laughing so hard he can’t speak.
I collect piss from my other leg, making my
hair even more wet. “I’m gonna put some in your hair,” I say. I jump towards
Khang, but he takes off.
MOTIVATION:
I posted the pic of my broken board on
Facebook. My brother emailed me, and said, “I knew it!” What he means is he
asked me to sell his boards for him since he moved to Bali. I told him that I
found buyers for them, but I never told him that I was the buyer. You see, when I told him I was interested in them,
he said that they were too advanced for me, too high performance. He gave me
the name of a shaper in HB and recommended for me to get something wider and
thicker that would be easier for my level of paddling. No matter what, to him .
. . I’ll never be good enough.
TEST RUN:
The three of us paddle out. The Tokoro
definitely chippier than the DMS. I feel my body sinking the lighter volume a
little more, but still, my paddling feels good on it, and I feel like I’m
cutting through the water.
I’m anxious to catch a wave. The first left
I get doesn’t give me much of a face. I pop up, and go down the line for a
little trim before the ride ends.
Meanwhile, Francis and Khang are getting
some rides. Ross, the local vet, breaks the fins loose on one of his turns,
showing his whole board at the twelve o’clock position over the lip. We see
this from the lineup, behind the wave. Just then, an outside wave forms, and I
paddle in going left. The face is open leaving a long section in front of me. I
pump, get a good bottom turn, and check-turn off the lip. I feel fast, it’s
loose. I pump again and set up for a carving arc on the shoulder where the wave
ends. Two turns on the Tokoro, not bad.
I paddle back to the lineup stoked,
grinning hard. I wondered if this board would be too small for me. My question
just got answered. As I paddle by Ross I say, “Hey that was a nice turn you got
back there.”
He smiles. “Thanks, you got a good wave too!”
I like how the veteran rippers out here are
so mellow and easy going; it’s one of the things that make this spot special.
I get my first right on the Tokoro, and
this is where things get challenging. The board feels so squirrely that on my
backside, I’m really cautious not to fall, so I fail to loosen up. I still
bottom turn and hit the lip, but I look like the Tin Man on it, too stiff. This
is still going to take some practice.
SUP LAND:
Khang and I go in to feed the meters. I put
in two more hours and change into my trunks and jacket. Just as I’m about to
head out, Shan pulls into the parking lot. I tell him that we’ll be just north
of 26th.
For the second session, the waves go
inconsistent. I spend the whole time trying to reduplicate that left I got
earlier, but it’s turning into a monkey hunt. Khang leaves, and the current
takes Francis and me near Rosecrans, where the crowd gets thick again. We never
bump into Shan. We try to work our way south where a school of SUP guys are
surfing. There are waves to be had, but every time I’m in position, an SUP guy
is on it. I paddle to the outside, hoping to get priority, but they paddle in
so early that there’s no way in competing with them. We paddle all the way back
to 26th, and the same SUP guys are over there now.
#
We call it a day and decide to get some
breakfast. Instead of going to Bob’s or Mandy’s, I buy some eggs, Vienna
sausage, and bacon. At the house, I cook us a local style breakfast. We eat
until we’re stuffed and get on the PS3 for a bit.
I’m just stoked that I’m able to ride the
Tokoro.
