Loc: El
Porto
Crew: Bri
& WHC
Time:
0645-0800
Conditions:
1-2 FT+, overcast, glassy, small, walled.
I see Rick at the gym on Tuesday and he’s
stoke because he has Wednesday off. “Let’s surf,” he says. I want to surf with
Rick. He’s my mentor and I love the guy, but I know that Surfline is still
forecasting the same flat spell that SoCal has been having for some time now.
There is supposed to be size on Thanksgiving, definitely Friday, but I’m not
too keen on paddling out if it’s a lake. I want to say no to Rick. Better to
have a morning sleeping in. Maybe I can go to the gym instead. Maybe I can get
some homework done. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
So I look Rick dead in the eye and say, “What
time are we going?”
#
Dave T., Gary, Rick, and Bri and I are in
the Porto lot changing. Nothing clears an El Porto parking lot like a flat
forecast and winter weather. If Surfline had called today poor-to-fair, the
magic green band on so many Surfline phone apps, the whole South Bay would be
here. Instead we’re faced with an offshore morning, chilly air temps, and an
empty lineup. Little lines are rolling in. Occasionally there’s a little three
footer, but . . . the shape is shit. We haven’t had a swell in a while, so the
sandbars are crap. The waves looked small and walled.
“Look at that!” says Dave, pointing out one
of the sets. I mind surf it. Yeah, it’s a little rideable. Now Rick’s going
apeshit too over the small surf. Before I know it, I’m hollering also. The
shoulders are a bit racy and lined, but . . . it looks surfable.
So here we are, pre Thanksgiving session,
and . . . the waves are just how I expected them to be. I try though. Nowhere
to really go but straight. Perhaps a pump or two. The main thing is that we are
here. Together. I got Bri, my man Rick, his people. We are all just surf
enthusiasts, longing for waves. It’s been damn near two weeks since I had last
surfed.
After the session we go to Blue Butterfly
for breakfast and plan on where to surf tomorrow.
