MY ENDLESS SUMMER, PT.12 THU 07AUG2014

Unexpected Energy

Loc: Manhattan Beach

Crew: Bri and Klaude

Time: 0700-0900

Conditions: 3FT, consistent, glassy, walled.

     I’m tired of commuting for surf. When Klaude had told me last night that he’d be surfing local, it only solidified the decision to stay close to home. First light had been the plan, but Bri and I sleep in a little. The tide’s high anyway, and the surf will be tiny.

     We reach the beach at about 0645. Vietnam Vet Mike is parked in his usual VIP spot. I wave. He waves back. Surprisingly, there are waves. The South Bay shouldn’t be getting shit, but I assume that the south swell has picked up with some good west in it, bringing in the waves. I spot Klaude on the sand stretching and warming up. Looks like he’s on the late train too. Before him are the lines of waves. A little too lined up. There’s decent size, three feet but walled. I’m hoping for occasional shoulders.

     As you know, I’m a free parking kind of guy, so Bri and I take our time changing. Back on the sand, I paddle up to Klaude. “You’re late!” he says. I laugh it off, telling him that I know he had just showed up too.

     The water’s cooled off a little, not quite the trunking-it conditions that midsummer had offered. I’m grateful for the size, but most of my waves are closeouts. Being picky, I hang back, praying for shoulders. Meanwhile, Klaude’s going for it. He’s KK 2.0 with his new vision, even going for all the closeouts.

     I’m on my Mini Driver with a quad setup since the waves are fast. I catch a left, and before the wave closes out I climb its face and try to gouge the lip with my tail as hard as possible before it dumps. It’s better than going straight.

     My wave of the day is another left. When it appears on the horizon, I say to Klaude, “There’s one.” He eyes it, but I paddle towards it. I have to. Natural instinct. I have to get in position for it. Unfortunately, I think this is my greedy instinct because I pretty much back paddle Klaude to get it. There’s a shoulder on it, and when I pop up, Klaude has to back out for me. Sorry, buddy. Just couldn’t help myself.

     Going down the line, I get a little front-side snap on its walled-up face. My turns don’t feel as tight with the quads, but I do the best I can. I end the wave with a finishing turn. Two hits on a day with no shape. I gotta be stoked for that.

     KK leaves for work. A lot of the usual locals aren’t here this morning. There are plenty of fresh faces with only a small handful of the 26^th Street Ohana. Then I see Toru on the sand heading out for a late morning session. “Long time no see!” he says. It’s true. I’m here trying to put in my local dues. Poor guy. He and his wife have just moved from Downtown L.A. to a house in the hood, somewhere on Crenshaw. He says there was already an attempted break in at his house, the prospective thieves were caught, and he just came back from court over the ordeal.

     “You got the day off?” I ask.

     “No, but I told myself I’d paddle out for at least twenty minutes.” But catching a wave for Toru is hard. He stays for about a half hour, catching closeouts before paddling towards the inside for a belly ride to shore.

     Meeting the local quota of at least one turn, Bri and I look forward to the Jalama trip with Gary this weekend. Hopefully there we can get our fill.