SHARP, WED 22JAN2014

Loc: PV

Crew: Shan

Time: 0745-0945

Conditions: 5 FT+, sunny, glassy, semi crowded, sectiony.

     Shan had texted me last night, saying that he’d hit up PV in the morning. After a day of much needed rest, I tell him I’ll be there at first light.

     This morning, after hitting the snooze button, first light is no longer an option. I get up at about 0600, make some coffee, eat some breakfast, and head out the door.

     I cruise along Highland Avenue, looking for signs of surf. Hammerlands has surfers sitting off of the jetty. Even the south side of the jetty has a pack, a small one. I see no heads at 45^th, but in passing 26^th Street I see a light crowd. There are definitely lines coming in, and I doubt that the local beach breaks can hold any shape.

#

     I score prime parking near the path at The Cove when I see a Japanese guy with long hair in a pony tail walking behind me.

     “Morning,” I say.

     “Hey.”

     I take a closer look and realize that it’s Ross, Manhattan Beach’s own, veteran ripper. “Not surfing local?” I say.

     He scoffs and says, “No! It’s been shitty!” He has his hands in his jean pockets, looking down at the surf. “I can’t tell if there are waves.” He paces. “Eh, I think I’ll just paddle out.”

     “Okay. See you out there!”

     I check my phone, and Shan says he’s leaving in five minutes.

     Down at the cliffs, two Japanese kids are about to paddle out. One leads out ahead of him, and the other kid hesitates, timidly taking small, awkward steps. He puts his board down to use it for balance. Even after I’m done warming up, he’s still trying to walk out to where it’s deeper.

     I take the same path he did, and I get hung up on some jagged rocks to. The water is murky, so I can’t see where I’m stepping. My left foot slips on a rock, and I feel it slide into a deep, jagged hole. I wince at the pain. I finally get to deeper water and paddle away.

     I’m gaining on the kid in front of me and think about the long paddle outs that I’ve had in Java and Bali. This is nothing. I expect to pass the kid, but then the white wash from the sets start rolling in. Duckdive after duckdive, it’s like I’m on a damn oceanic treadmill. My rear delts burn and my upper back muscles go tight. I guess . . . it doesn’t matter where you’ve been or what you’ve surfed. If you’re out of surfing shape then you’ll suck ass regardless.

     I overtake the kid and make it past the inside break. A guy on a longboard takes a left, heading straight for the kid, and then I see the longboarder kick out. He looks pissed. “Mannnn!” he says while throwing up his arms in disgust. The kid was in the way.

#

     I’ve surfed decent swell at PV before, probably six-to-seven feet. Today it’s not that big. During the lull, we all sit scattered. The sets are somewhere between five and six feet. When they arrive, they are mostly sectiony with a deceptive shoulder. Then the sets start breaking even further out, leaving everyone out of position.

     Even though there are a good handful of surfers here, the crowd is manageable. At any time, a surfer may be in the perfect spot, too deep, too far outside, or caught in the impact zone. It’s that kind of day, and I love it because it gives everyone a chance.

    

NO LONGER SPOILED:

     At Trestles Klaude had said, “This place is too easy.” I think Trestles is so forgiving and rippable that one can be easily fooled into believing that he’s an advanced surfer. But coming off of an awesome Trestles trip, I’m struggling with PV’s waves. Don’t get me wrong. PV isn’t critical. Even the time I had surfed it bigger, it wasn’t. I mean, let’s be serious here. The Cove doesn’t break “round.” It isn’t a fast barrel machine, it’s not a slap that will pitch you over the lip into the shallow reef. There are rocks at PV, but the waves break so far out that they aren’t really an issue. Even though PV can hold decent shape with big surf, it’s still a slopey wave. However, it is still a wave to be respected. On this morning, there is a lot of water moving around. Something about this spot makes me feel slower, paddling around on my shortboard. I can see why this is a good longboard spot; you need the extra volume. Also, since the waves are sectiony, you really have to be able to read them well or be good at making the sections.

     I go left on my first wave. I take off late, but the big, spilling lip sinks my rail as I slide down its face at an angle. My second wave has some decent shape, but my front foot slips off of the deck.

     Now I’m a little frustrated. I should’ve taken the time to strip my board. I had this same issue at Churches.

     Sets appear when I least expect it, and like a bunch of lemurs, everyone paddles towards the outside in unison. After duckdiving each set wave, there is another bigger one behind it breaking even further out.

     I thought I was in shape, but working through the whitewash wears me out.

#

NEVER FLAKE:

     I’ve been in the water for an hour, and Shan’s still not here. To give you a little history, he’s a guy who always hits me up the night before to surf and never shows up. I look around. Ross is still here. He has a short, fat board, and he’s ripping it on both lefts and rights. Even on the closeouts, he manages at least a turn. Other longboarders look back at his spray and then look at each other, as if saying, “Who is this guy?”

     Ross paddles up to me and says, “Ho! Fun!”

     I’m thinking about how I’m going to deal with Shan if he doesn’t show up. I picture myself back at my car, reading his lame excuse of a text, and then writing back: FLAKE. That’s it.  

     Looking towards the north side of the Cove, I see Shan paddling towards me. Right on.

#

     I’m trying to share some waves. Everyone’s a familiar face by now, and I don’t want to be greedy, so I’m a good sport. I hoot guys who catch the bombs.

     I get a rare left that has a long shoulder to it. I manage one top turn, and the lip pushes me back down the face so fast that I lose balance.

     On my next wave, I lose balance and fall half way into my cutback. It’s not a good morning for Donny Duckbutter. What happened to all the good turns I got at Trestles?

     By 0930, the lulls get a little longer. The difference now is that the rights are working much better now. The shape improves a bit. More shoulders instead of walls come through.

    

BEWARE OF NOOB:

     A longboarder drops in on a guy. The guy is yelling behind him, trying to call the longboarder off of his wave, but the longboarder doesn’t know how to kick out. After the wave closes out, they are both floating in the marbleized foam.

     I keep my eye on the outside. A left rolls in. A fishrider sitting south has a decent shoulder. Down the line, on his line, the longboarder is still there, stuck in the inside, off of his board. The fishriding has to jump off of his board and into the longboarder to avoid a collision with the boards.

     Now an outside, rogue set has sprouted up. I already know that I’m not gonna make it, and I’m prepared to duckdive. As the first wave breaks, I see at least five longboards get ditched. I mean, I haven’t seen nothing like this in a while. Just boards getting shoved aside in the lineup with their riders diving to save their lives, while their boards bob dangerously in the surf.

#

     At the two hour mark, I tell Shan that I’m taking one in. Meanwhile, the north part of The Cove is giving long, rippable rights. I catch a left, tagging the lip once before straightening out back to shore.

     A chick, who I usually see at Porto, paddles towards shallow water. Her man friend walks up to her and takes her board. They walk up the hill. He still carries her board. Fuckin A. SURF VALET!

     So it wasn’t that great of a session for me, and I can’t blame the waves. It’s just different here, and other guys in the lineup were ripping. I accept that I surfed shitty.

     The bottom of my left foot hurts, so I take a look. Right there, in the most critical and inconvenient spot, where the crease on the bottom of the bend of my big toe meets the ball of my foot, is a fucking deep and clean slice.

     I had cut my other foot last week and now this. Maybe it’s time for some booties.

     My phone has been blown up with texts about what the call will be on Friday because of the increase in swell. I just came back from a Trestles camp trip, so I might just come here.