NO PLACE . . ., THU 29MAY2014

Loc: Manhattan Beach

Crew: Shan

Conditions: overcast, light onshore, 1-3 FT, inconsistent, mushy

     I wake up after an uncomfortable night’s sleep at 0530. It’s overcast just like yesterday morning. I prop myself up and look outside. The San Onofre Beach camping area is desolate with just a few tents and cars parked along the beach. A camper with bedhead walked to the public bathrooms. The first thing I notice is how badly I stink. The concoction of camping gear, surfboards, my B.O., and surf paraphernalia combine to reek of anus-brewed alcohol. I need a shower. The rubber weather seal peels apart as I open my car door, and that’s when I feel the rush of onshore wind. I look at the flags on the RV’s. Yup. Onshore.

     Upon venturing to the Churches’ site, I see crumbly onshore peaks breaking towards the exposed cobblestones. At least yesterday was glassy. What happened to the surf forecasts?

     Other surfers arrive only to leave after watching the surf for a minute. The universal head shake from side to side and the grimace before pulling out reeks of disappointment.

     I park and walk along the beach, making my way to Middle Trestles. There are waves, but the shape is terrible. Back at my car, I pull out a book, the one I hadn’t finished for school. It was my last reading assignment, Carson McCullers, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter. I glance at the surf again. Those who had parked at San Onofre are marching towards Churches and Middles with boards in tow. I check Surfline, the actual web page and not the shitty iPhone app, and check the report. They say that conditions are “Fair.” It’s bullshit.

     So now I have to make the call. Stay and wait it out or go home?

#

     It takes about an hour and a half to make it to Manhattan Beach. I know. It sounds ridiculous to surf the South Bay after having the opportunity to surf Trestles, but trust me, it was bad. If I’m going to surf onshore waves, I might as well do it here.

     There’s free parking right by the lifeguard station. Looking out at the ocean, I’m stoked to see that there isn’t much texture on the water, and there are small clean peaks rolling in—shoulders.

     I change as quickly as my wet wetsuit allows. The sky is gray here too, but the wind is good. I spot Shan in the lineup. I wave. He waves back.

     When I make it out to him, a peak comes my way. I paddle for it, and it passes me up. There are mostly longboarders here, and even though high tide is at 1100, the waves are already hard to get into. Part of me is disappointed, and I wonder if I should have stayed at Trestles.

     I paddle north towards Marine. The peaks are breaking long, but the corners, all the way at the end, have shape. The wave is fast, but I pop up on a building left. Even though the waves are soft, upon getting into them, they are fast. I pump down the line, getting a little check turn along the way, and set myself up for a power carve on the end section. Quota met.

     An hour later, the wind has turned completely onshore. There is still enough shape for the longboarders, but I can’t compete.

     Walking back up the stairs to The Strand, after showering off, I feel a sense of security that I didn’t have at Trestles. Yeah, the surf here wasn’t that great, but I know this place and know the people. I tend to surf with much more peace and resolve here. No matter how good the waves are elsewhere, I’ll always be connected to this spot. Home. There’s no place like it.