THE FUNBOARD BROTHERS, WED 10SEPT2014

Loc: Manhattan Beach (26^th)

Crew: Randy

Time: 0745-0930

Conditions: 1-3 FT, glassy, consistent.

     Monday was pretty damn fun in the South Bay. After driving to HB for some poor shape, it only makes sense to stay local. Surfline has El Porto forecasted at 1-2 FT, so yesterday I asked my brother if he’s down for a funboard shootout. “Hell yeah,” he said.

     So I’m not expecting any size this morning. I am expecting groms. Instead of waking up at 0500 like I’m supposed to, I hit the snooze button until 0545 before texting my brother that I’ll be late. I wake up at 0645. Fuck.

     But why rush? I’m in no hurry for two-foot waves, and my body needs the rest. I pack Bri’s 6’8 NSP and CC’s 6’0 Zippifish and head to my sister’s house to pick up Randy.

     The surf looks tiny, driving down Vista Del Mar. El Segundo Beach has some weak energy. There are small waves by the smoke stacks. Reaching 26^th Street, I see small insiders.

     We score VIP parking by the lifeguard station. After suiting up, we reach the sand and are confronted with a swarm of grommets. Not as bad as Monday, but they have the main peak in front of the tower all to themselves. I look at my watch. 0730. “They’re gonna be gone soon,” I say to Randy.

     He selects the NSP, so we warm up just south of the pack and paddle out. I’m barebacking it, gliding through the water on the Zippi. At first I feel cold, but in a few minutes, I’m nice and warm. Gotta love these conditions.

     I catch my first left, walking the deck, leaning, and holding a good line for distance. Right after that, the groms start leaving one by one. We have it to ourselves before the salty vets make it out for the second shift.

     Randy . . . I’ve never seen him on a funboard before, and it’s actually refreshing. He’s a big-wave barrel charger, and I used to think that these tiny waves, especially on an NSP, would be beneath him. But he’s going for it, stalling in the pocket, trying to get shacked. His style is loose but low and crouched. I watch him, wave after wave, setting himself up for a major carve. He puts his weight into his turns as much as possible, but the NSP is so stiff that he falls on most of them.

     Meanwhile, the Zippi is a wave catching machine. I’m not really cranking off turns. It’s just a fun kind of day, glassy conditions, and all I’m shooting for is distance and quantity. I feel loose without a rashguard. My arms haven’t been able to paddle unrestricted for a while.

     Once the older guys come out, the lineup’s a little more crowded, but everyone’s still cool and mellow. I give and receive a couple “good mornings.” So does Randy. Toru shows up. I have a good talk with him. Shan shows up, bringing two chicks with him who can’t surf.

     It’s a small day but so clean and fun thanks to the right equipment.

     Randy asks to switch boards before we leave. I struggle on the NSP after riding the fish.

     Once I’m on the sand after my last one, I watch Randy catch a left. The board looks so thick underneath him. He pumps down the line and pulls off a frontside snap. I expect him to lose the wave because he kind of gets held up, but he drops back in with ease, falling on the finishing maneuver when the wave bogs out.

     Miles is reentering the water, now in shorts and a rashguard, in front of Randy. “That looked like a fun one,” he says. As the next wave is about to close on Randy, he leans backwards into the wave to avoid an awkward push. Mister Cool Stuff. I’m entertained. It was a treat this morning to see my brother tear it up on some different equipment.