WEAK WINDSWELL, SUN 22JUN2014

Loc: Manhattan Beach

Time: 1000-1130

Crew: Bri

Conditions: onshore, crowded, sunny, warm, 1-2 FT.

     Figuring that a dawn patrol would be a waste for tiny conditions, Bri and I slept in and headed to the beach late. Too bad the whole South Bay community had the same idea.

     There was no street parking anywhere. The same cars zoomed past, all in the same chase for a space. An old lady was standing in an empty spot yelling into her cell phone, holding it for whomever she was talking to. I gave up and went to Porto. Lot closed. All the residential streets surrounding MB was chaos.

     We finally went to a parking area that I refer to as my “Secret Garden” and found a spot immediately. Only issue was the long walk.

     The beach was packed, a typical summer day with blazing hot sun, teenage ass, and bare-backed studs strutting their shiny buff chests. The only local I knew that was out was an old lady who rides a Costco foamie and wears a boonie hat. The rest of the crowd was day trippers, most of them in wetsuits.

     I had prepared for the small surf, rocking the hand-me-down 6’8 NSP that my friend Dais had let Bri borrow. Armed with a funboard, I braced the tiny onshore conditions.

     Surprisingly, I had a lot of fun. It’s nice to ride something different when the conditions call for it. The NSP made the small surf feel punchy. The speed upon sliding down the face made for fun rides. I tried walking the nose but couldn’t quite get my toes over. I’m a terrible cross stepper and don’t plan on ever mastering it. But even though people were in my way, I was able to turn the bulky board and steer the nose away from them.

     There was one kid learning how to surf. He tried paddling for every wave, flailing while his legs dragged off the sides of his deck. I took a right, and even though he saw that I was on it, he still went for it and wiped out right in front of me. I steered out of his way. He looked at me and smiled, not knowing that he had just committed a surf etiquette no-no. But I didn’t want to be a “regulator,” so I left a few waves after.

     Walking back up the hill later, the noob and his homeboy drove by in their truck. Their boards were in the back while they joked and laughed with red burnt faces. Their eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses. They had surfed like shit, but sitting in their seats, they sure looked like they knew how to rip.