 |
| The road to Choco Point |
Morning
Sesh:
I haven’t pulled a morning session at Choco
Point yet because the tides haven’t been right, but at twelve days into my
trip, the tide push is just right at first light. I do sleep in a little
though, waking up finally at 0615. Without brushing my teeth, I ride out to
check the surf. There are about five guys out, and the waves look small and
weak. It would be fun for a fat fish or a longboard. The swell supposed to pick
up at five-to-eight feet by noon, but it’s not quite hitting right now. I head
back to the compound to grab my board before checking the surf at the harbor,
but Sonia tells me that the harbor only works on high tide. So, if I really
want to surf this morning, it’s gonna have to be Choco Point.
When
I paddle out, I see that Camille, Ana, Edo, and a couple other guys who I don’t
know are out there. There’s this one longboarder who’s staying at Compound One.
He’s an old Aussie guy with a bald head and bushy eyebrows. He looks like Wario
from the Super Mario Brothers video games. Anyway, this fucking asshole, on
this slow ass morning he’s catching waves way on the outside, comes back, and
does the same shit again. No fucking etiquette.
Once he leaves, I’m able to get some waves
for myself. I only total two good rides, the rest are small and gutless. On my
first wave, I try to whip the tail out on my turn. Since the morning sun is in
my eyes, I don’t realize that Ana’s in my line on the inside. She duckdives,
and I’m forced to bail on my board. When I resurface, the both of us are okay,
but I feel the rail of my board while I’m sitting. The Tokoro has a ding from
colliding with her board.
At least the damage isn’t an open gouge
like the Lost board, but I’m thinking that I’ll still have to take it to Edo
for a repair.
On the next waves, I practice what I saw
Gayun doing the other day: looking more behind me on my turns to get more
accentuation on them. It makes my turns feel more fluid, and the transfer from the
high line back into the pocket becomes much smoother too. By time 0900, the tide
is too high for anything to break. Even though it was a small morning, I milked
it the best I could.
 |
| Compound One |
Back at the room, Al says that he had
looked at it while I was out there, but it didn’t look like it was worth it. A
little bit later, we check out Reese and Grant. I ask if they’re going to check
out that spot that Reese had surfed yesterday. He says he’ll probably head to
Machines, but there’s a chance he might push further in that direction if
Machines is too flat.
We load up and about an hour later,
Machines is right in front of us. The right isn’t working too well, something
about the angle of the swell maybe, but it’s not hitting right. Even though the
tide is high, the left is just starting to work. The wave off of the cliff
looks turnable. Reese and I grab some nasi pecel with an egg on top of it and
two ice teas. Grant and Al are a little behind us, and by the time they show
up, there are already a couple barrels.
Here’s the main problem. It’s crowded. The
French pros are still here. I now understand the reluctance that I’ve heard
other surfers talk about when there are pros in the water. Besides the three
pros, there are ten other guys, all fighting for one take off spot, possibly to
get the barrel of his or her life. On a Cali scale, the waves are probably five
feet, of course over gnarly reef.
My main concern is Al. I know he’s tired of
surfing Choco Point. I’d like to bring him to a different wave. Al and I ask
Reese if he wants to surf that other spot, but he’s set on Machines. Grant’s
foot is still lacerated and oozing puss, so he’s just there to take photos.
I have a meeting with Al. “You’re leaving
in a couple days,” I say. “I’m with you, man. What do you want to do?”
The call is that there are too many people
here. It’s crowded and pro central. I remember a spot off of the road on the
way back. I offer that we have a look at that before we call the trip quits. On
the way there, Al rides next to me and suggests that we just go back.
So here we are, once more looking at Choco
Point. It’s about 1441. The tide is still dropping. The waves are rideable but
small. There was supposed to be a swell that hit by noon today, but I can’t
tell if it’s hit or not.
“I’m gonna go drop off my stuff,” says Al.
“Okay. I’m just gonna wait here and get my stuff
ready.”
Under the shade, I rest my head on the
handlebars of my moped. I’m a little bummed that this trip didn’t turn out the
way that I had hoped. Al’s about to leave. I’m not sure what it’s gonna be like
once I’m here solo. Even the crew back at Compound One is gonna start thinning
out: Camille leaves in two days, Ana shortly after, and then Sonia. It’s gonna
be me, Reese, and Grant after that. That’s it. I know that they’ll be surfing
Machines a lot, so I figure I’ll get my shot at getting barreled there.
I lift my head and look up. It’s the first
set I’ve seen since parking. It looks three-to-four feet and rideable. I grab
my Vertra and start smearing it on my face.
Al shows up just as I’m done getting ready.
We walk out together, but the water’s deep right away because the tide is still
high. The paddle’s long but doable. I thankful for the lull because I’m able to
make it out easy. Al’s still way behind, but he stops short. I realize that
I’ve paddled too far and head back inside. On the shoreline, Ana’s making the
walk to the lineup too.
A wave forms on the outside. Al paddles for
it, but I know he’s too deep and that it won’t break for him. I turn and go.
The wave stands up to about five feet. My Lost board, even though I bought it
for barrels, man, it has so much volume that it works very well for an all
around board. It has more volume than I need. It’s dimensions are 6’0 x 2 ½ x
20, but even on these mooshy waves it works like a funboard. With a tri-fin
setup, I can actually get some decent turns on it. At first I thought my
Motorboat Too, which is in El Segundo collecting dust, would be ideal here.
However, with these long ass paddle outs, it’s nice to have a little extra
board. The section where the wave starts, since we are sitting deep, is really
rippable. The section stands up, and I climb the face with speed, getting nice
carves off of the lip. On the way back, a new set approaches. Al gets the first
wave, Camille the second, and Ana the third. When I get to the lineup, all the fucking
waves are gone. Three wave set, none left for me, but I’m glad my friends got
them.
On the shore, a new crowd approaches. Three
Portuguese dudes had moved in upstairs today, and . . . they are here. Aside from them are some
local Indo dudes, but now they’ve brought three other brown guys who I’ve never
seen before. They all sit deep, at the top of the wave. One of those guys is
tatted up and has Fox stickers all over his board. More pros.
What was once a serene scene is now
crowded. Al paddles to the top of the wave with them to do battle. I try to sit
on the side, but these guys, they are good. They catch the waves all the way at
the top, greedy, not leaving much for anyone else. Then the rest of the Euros
from Compound One show up, so now . . . it’s just a mix bag of ability levels.
I’m so fucking annoyed. My stoke suffers.
Girl Power:
I tell Ana and Camille that in Cali, girls
can drop in on anyone, and no one really says shit. “Go!” I encourage them,
“take any wave you want. Guarantee they won’t say shit.” The Fox pro catches a
wave deep. He’s pumping towards the open face. Hell yes, I’m thinking. Anna is
on the shoulder. She paddles and gets the drop. I see the pro frown as she
takes his line away. One of the Germans girlies from Compound One also drops in
on one of those dicks. Awesome. Then, three chicks go at the same time and take
a party wave. That’s right, blow this whole place up. If they’re gonna be hogs
then serve those fuckers up too!
The
Clearing:
The waves are getting better as the tide is
dropping. Also, that swell that was supposed to arrive at noon is starting to
show. Sets are forming further out, breaking wide, giving others a chance. And
the pros, now they’re spot has turned off. However, I see one of them catch a
wave deep at the point. With the increase in size, since that part of the wave
stands up, he pulls in and gets a little cover up, shampoo. Fuck, I’m so
jealous. I’ve caught waves from there and have fought to make the section. I
had a feeling it was standing up enough for an almond shaped slit to fit in.
I’ll have to keep that in mind.
And for some reason, over half of the crowd
leaves. I’m a bit tired from the morning sesh, but at the same time I can’t
leave. The waves are getting bigger and more fun, but it’s almost dark. Only
the German chicks are left out, so I catch my last wave in, in hopes to avoid
the barrage of bugs on the ride back. Even though I’m last to leave, it was an
easy three-hour session. That’s five hours of surf time for today. Not too bad.
 |
| It's hard to tell, but that's a wave approaching. |
Community:
Edo’s wife had bought a gigantic tuna from
the local market this morning, and she spread the word that everyone is invited
to tonight’s feast. At compound One there is a huge bowl, like banquet size
made for a feast, of tuna salad. Next to it is a basket of white rice. Under
the hut-like platform, thunder lights up the sky like a strobe light, making
everything visible from the flashes. We are protected by the rain, and our crew
sits at the table, just eating and talking story. Reese said he got a couple barrels
today, and the girls are stoked about their party wave. We’re so full we’re
drowsy, but that doesn’t stop us from making a trip to Indomaret for some ice
cream.
 |
| Best meal since being here. TUNA!!!! |
We say our goodbyes and head back to the
room. My eyes are so heavy that I can’t write. I close my laptop and set it
aside for tomorrow. Al’s up reading; he can’t put down Pressfield’s Gates of Fire that I had lent him for
this trip. A little later, I wake to the sound of Al grunting in the bathroom,
followed by the sound of liquid splashing in the toilet.
No comments:
Post a Comment