I DIDN’T, SUN 9FEB2014

Loc: El Porto, The Tanks

Time: 0700-0900

Conditions: 2-3 FT, crowded, glassy

     For the first time in weeks, I see Rick and his homies at 45^th. It’s not because they haven’t been here, but it’s because of how I had cut my foot at PV. And they’re here: Manny, Jimmy, Gary, and Rick.

     I had expected the surf to be small, so I’m on my 6’10 Becker while Bri rides the NSP.

     I hear Rick hooting down the line. He doesn’t see me yet, but I see him get a little snap off of the lip, throwing out some water. He eats it on the inside, resurfacing with a wild and hysterical laugh, a symptom prone to stoked surfers. He sees me for the first time this morning and says, “What’s up, Matt! Did you see my turn?”

     All of the homies are sitting on top of 45^th. Not just the homies, but most of El Porto. It’s crowded, and I’m sure I can insert myself in the lineup and catch some for myself, but I’m on a bigger board than usual. Of course I can catch some waves by the tanks, free of the crowd. But I watch ride after ride, hoot after hoot, the boys trading off on waves all the way to shore.

     Meanwhile, the peak in front of the tanks isn’t working much. I pop up on waves, cutting back into the white wash, waiting for the reform section to stand up, but they bog out instead.

     And in the pack, Rick and the boys are catching waves. Because I don’t join them, I get front row seats to the WHC show, the surf contest between old Venice guys who are ripping it up.

     I paddle and try to catch some waves of my own, bogging out, rides deflated. All because I didn’t want to sit with the crowd.