Loc:
Manhattan Beach
Time: 0700-0900
Crew: Bri,
Klaude
Conditions:
4-5FT+, walled, punchy.
A Kook’s
Tale:
Yeah, so this is me being honest. I was so
stoked for the surf forecast on Monday that I had stayed up late Sunday night,
going through all my boards. I was nerding out, taking the fins off of my
boards, comparing rockers, and deciding which board I’d use the next day. I
went with the Lost Mini Driver, my big-wave board, even though I didn’t expect
the surf to be “big,” I just wanted something that I could practicing “pulling
in” with.
So I waxed my board, screwed on the
quad-fin setup, and prepacked my wagon.
#
It’s a little dark out, so I can’t really
tell what the surf is doing, but then I see a wave closeout. The size looks
small because I’m up on a hill, but I’m not alarmed.
Bri’s has also pulled into the parking lot.
She’s gonna get a surf session in before work.
I grab my board and head down to the sand,
meeting up with Bri. There are only a few people out. The surf is about four
feet and dumpy because of the tide, but it still looks manageable.
We paddle out together. I haven’t used this
board in a while. It’s thick and has a lot of volume. On my first duckdive, I
feel how much harder it is to submerge my board. It’s funny how riding
different equipment can really throw you off sometimes.
Now a set comes, and I get worked trying to
get out. I turn around. Bri’s still on the inside taking beatings. I’m panting
by the time I make it out. Tired but alive.
A right rolls in. I’m a little deep. I turn
around to paddle for it, but I pull out at the last minute. The wave looked
like it was lining up but a little too walled. The next wave looks the same. I
turn like I’m going for it, but I pull out again, and that’s when I realize
that I’m scared. Yeah, it’s the truth. There it is.
It’s been a while since I’ve surfed waves
with any size. In these moments, I remind myself about my second trip to Indo a
year ago: the slab, the reef, the really sharp reef. But no matter where you
travel, a big day is a big day, and being out of your comfort zone is all the
same. Kind of like how people compare different kinds of cold weather. I was
stationed in Germany when I was nineteen and had paid my dues sleeping in the
snow, but on a cold SoCal winter, I can freeze just the same.
Bri finally makes it out. She tries to go
for the smaller waves, but it’s just one of those mornings when the small ones
only break inside. There is no in between. It’s paddle into the big ones or
hang out on the inside for the small ones and get pummeled. Regardless, I
praise her for being out here. It’s a sparse lineup. Even the high school groms
aren’t hogging it. Not everyone wants this.
I get a good right early, getting two
backhand snaps. It feels good, like some sort of redemption, but backing out of
those two waves earlier haunts me.
I go left, try to cutback, but I have so
much speed that my board keeps going forward and slides out from under my feet.
Bri leaves.
I try to pig dog. On one right, I grab
rail, and find myself at the base of the wave much earlier than expected. My
pig dogging isn’t working.
Klaude arrives. He has a hard time making
it out too.
I catch more waves, but I also pay for
them. I get worked again, even ditch my board twice (I’m ashamed to admit
that).
The surf is getting more and more walled.
Upset about the potential barrels I had dodged earlier, I start pulling into
the lefts, just going for it, but they all closeout. I know they’ll closeout,
but sometimes it’s fun just to pull in.
Klaude leaves. So does most of the other
surfers.
The waves get inconsistent, even lose a
little size. I’ve been out for two hours.
When I get out of the water, I inspect my
board to make sure I hadn’t dinged it, and that’s when I see that my right
outer fin is missing. The FCS screws are loose. I must’ve forgotten to tighten
them, and the fin must’ve fallen out earlier.
I’m beyond pissed. I hate myself.
Motherfucker. I was surfing with a fin missing. What an idiot. I was so stoked
last night to get my board ready, and I forgot to screw in a fin?
The cost of new fins comes to mind. They’re
expensive.
Back at my car, I check my fin bag, and . .
. there’s the fin. I never even fucking screwed it in.
Well, that explains why I slid out on my
cutback and why I ended up at the base of the wave so soon when trying to pig
dog.
#
Later on that night, Klaude sends me the
following text: You can’t get barreled from the parking lot. I reply, and then
he fills me in on the story.
He and
Davey were in the parking lot when X and Y walks up to them. X says to Davey, “Were
there really any barrels out there? I didn’t see you catch any?”
Davey says, “X, all I know is that you can’t
get barreled from the parking lot.”
Klaude laughs out loud. X and Y aren’t
feeling too manly anymore.
So even though I didn’t surf well—and
forgot a fin—at least I paddled out. At least Bri paddled out while guys in the
parking lot preferred to stay dry and parking lot puss it.
Even my friend Gary said he didn’t paddle
out. He said that Rosecrans was just a big wall, no one out.
I’m a kook for forgetting my fin, for
nerding out all by myself in my garage the night before, prepping my equipment.
But am I really a kook? I just feel like I’m the only one who nerds out the way
I do when it comes to surf. If that makes me a kook, can you blame me?
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