THE SNEAK SESH, SUN 08DEC2013 EVE

Loc: El Porto

Crew: Bri, Dais

Time: 1530-1715

Conditions: 1-3 FT, scattered peaks, light onshore.

     I shouldn’t be in the water today. There should be no time for it, but I’m off work early after our holiday party. I should still be there, but I told my squad to ditch our clean-up detail. Why not? I was stuck for over an hour last year, so I’m not doing it this year.

     Before going home, Bri and I cruise by Porto. It looks like a nice evening, the wind is light, and the tide is already coming back down, hopefully relieving the symptomatic moosh.

     When we pull into the Porto lot, we see small scattered peaks everywhere, only affected slightly by the north wind. I call Rick, but he’s at his niece’s birthday.    

     “I don’t really feel like surfing,” says Bri.

     “You don’t have to,” I say. I haven’t surfed since Friday, so I’m frothing.

     “No, I’m not gonna let you go out there by yourself so you can tell me what I missed out on. I’m not letting you get that one up on me!” So Bri and pack up the wagon with speed and head back to Porto.

     Before paddling out, I send the DRC Signal to Cheryl, Christina, Khang, and Dais. I tell them: Porto is clean for the evening session.

     When my toes touch the water, I realize that I made the wrong decision by wearing my 3/2. Yes, winter is here. It is fucking freezing. I can only imagine how cold it must have been this morning.

     With the swell on the down slope, this is it. I have to make the best out of this session.

     In the lineup, I worry that I may have made the DRC Signal prematurely. The surf had looked better from the shore, but now . . . eh . . . it’s a little on the walled and racy side. Every wave I catch is running away from me. Since Bri’s on the longboard, she’s able to get into the waves early and make the sections. These are not shortboard conditions.

     About fifteen minutes into the session, and I see Dais on the sand making his way out. It’s so easy to spot him with his long hair in a tail and his long Confucius beard.

     “I was wondering all day when to paddle out,” he says. “Go when the tide’s high or wait until it comes down? And then I got your text.”

     I tell him that you have to be in the right spot and that I haven’t really gotten many waves. But something about Dais’ presence changes my luck. I’m in prime position for a left. Upon popping up, the section is already building. But I pump down the line and get one carve before it closes out.

     Even Bri is getting better rides, finding herself right on the shoulder in expert position for the building sections.

     Once the sun goes down, the water begins to clear out a little. A school of dolphins cruise in front of us.

     “Oh shit!” says Dais. “What’s that?”

     Suddenly I’m not so sure if those are dolphins. There have been so many shark sightings lately. I duckdive the next wave, thinking the worst: jaws upon my face under the black ocean. When I resurface, I see that the number of fins in the water can only mean that they are in fact a school of dolphins.

     On the next peak, Dais is too deep and duckdives, but I’m on the shoulder for the right. As I slide into the face I can’t believe that the shape is holding, so I wind up for a backhand snap. The inside takes some section maneuvering and setting up, but I get a second blast off the lip. Who knew? This evening session wasn’t even planned. I ditched my detail at work to make it in time for an evening session, and now I’m actually scoring some turns, much more fun than the cleaner, crowded session on Friday morning.

     It’s dark when Bri and I leave the lot. We see Dais changing, and we say our goodbyes and plan on meeting up to surf again this week.

     At home, Bri’s decorated our tiny studio. We even have the holiday candles going. She warms up some leftovers from the holiday party. I return Klaude’s phone call from Oahu. He tells me about meeting JOB at Pipeline and how he caught day one of the event right by the competitor’s area. We’re both stoked for each other.

     Kobe Bryant makes his debut, coming off of an eight-month injury. With a mouth full of sweet potatoes, I can’t wait to watch Kobe make his triumphant return over the Raptors, perhaps breaking his eighty-point scoring record. Oh yeah. With good surf and good food, how can anything go wrong tonight?