DEATH OF A SWELL, WED 12MAR2014

Loc: Manhattan Beach

Time: 0700-0900

Conditions: 2-3 FT, high tide, mooshy, uncrowded, inconsistent

Board: Fish

     You can smell the death of a swell like a fart in a car. Not that many people are out. So much street parking is available. Half the high school kids are body surfing on the inside. Where are the vets? Probably waiting for it to get better, but will it?

     With the dark hours extending later into the morning, the early chill has me in my 4/3 wetsuit.

     Two main peaks are breaking long, producing a right and a left, both towards the lifeguard tower. Even though the tide is high and going higher, the set waves still break out at the lineup.

     Some groms are shortboarding the mooshed-out waves but find themselves pumping furiously instead of turning. I see another guy pumping too until his wave mooshes out on the inside. That’s fine with me. I guess every kid wants to be the next pro, and they want to ride what the pros ride, which means that most of them are on the wrong equipment.

     I feel like a wave thief.

     And . . . my fish still works in this two-to-three foot moosh. To think I had initially wanted a fish that was at least two-and-a-half inches thick. Surprisingly, my board is still thick enough to get me into these little waves. The peaks start off long, but they break so slow that I can just hold my line until I’m behind the section a little, and that’s when I’m able to pump and get some turns in.

     Some guys are out with the right equipment: Costco foamies and single fins, and I’m still getting more waves than them.

     Don Kadowaki is sitting behind me towards the inside. “Hey,” he says, “I saw you the other day trying to get barreled on the rights.”

     Unfortunately, I can’t really hear what he’s saying because I have my earplugs in. Usually I don’t take them out, but I do for Don since he’s the king of this spot.

     I thank him and tell him how Porto was fun yesterday evening. It feels good to be recognized for something.

    

     I sense the guys around me getting irritated that I’m getting most of the waves, so I paddle south and try my luck at a more inconsistent spot. These are my standout moments of the session:

     I get a left, the face stands, and I get this arcing carve with the fish, pointing my nose down into the base of the wave, but since the tide is high I ride out of it. Feels awesome.

     On this right, the peak is long and walled, but I hold a high line, and my board takes me all the way to shore. No pumping, no turns, just smooth gliding. The wide nose on my fish just gives so much stability that I can just cruise it.

     My last wave is a right. I get one backhand hack before the wave closes out. I ride out of it and take it all the way to shore. Again, bonus points for ending the session on a good wave.

     On the way back to my car, I see some locals suiting up and walking down. One of them says, “Perfect time to paddle out. Tide is going down!” On paper, that sounds right. The tide is going down, so it should be getting better. But there is still something waning about the conditions. I caught some decent waves, but the surf is getting smaller as the tide gets lower, so it seems. Not sure if any window after this will be better.

     Walking to my car, I see the local vet Bruce, watching the surf too. He should have been out a long time ago. 

HIGH TIDE HOOLIGAN, TUE 11MAR2014 EVE

Loc: El Porto (45^th)

Time: 1700-1845

Conditions: 4ft, high tide, long fat peaks

Board: Fish

     Everyone around me is stoked, looking at the clean surf conditions with only minimal onshore conditions. Lines are rolling in towards El Porto. The high tide making the peaks long and fat.

     I’m not a big wave charger, a ripper, or a barrel rider, and honestly . . . I love these conditions, especially since I have the right board to ride them in.

     The evening crowd is on it, and who wouldn’t be? So I paddle out with the mindset to be easy, not to get irritated, and to expect some wave haggling.

     The lines come in walled or long with a little shoulder at the end of them. The lip crumbles forward with assistance from the onshore wind, but long faces still open up. The trick is to have the right board.

     My fish is a Godsend. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. This fish is such a good addition to my quiver. It rides perfectly in these conditions.

     The first thing I do is a surf check to see how many people are on the wrong boards. Since the conditions are more manageable and the tide is high, the ratio is about 60% shortboarders and 40% longboard and hybrid riders. There are also a lot of beginners out here.

     “I just got a little barrel on the inside,” says a kid to my left, talking to his friend.

     And there’s this guy sitting on the outside on a longboard. Even on the monster sets, he’s not backing out. He’s choosy, going mostly right. Far down the line, guys have to back out for him. That’s cool because I want the lefts.

     In between the walls, there are so many good waves. Five feet on the sets with big, fat shoulders to glide down.

     Many of the beginners are scared, darting towards the outside to beat the waves. Little do they know that they are in perfect position. Even though the wave looks big, they are so slopey and inconsequential, but what they don’t know falls into my advantage.

     I pass shortboarders sitting on the inside, waiting to catch waves late so they can actually have a chance at getting into them, but they have to pull out for me.

     The waves aren’t forming for ripping turns, but I’m having fun just trimming and holding my line. I play around, trying to pull off floaters but fall. I even turn-and-go on some inside waves.

     As the tide keeps getting higher, it’s harder for the shortboarders in the lineup to catch waves. Just not enough board. Damn, if I would have known what I know now, back in the day when I was a noob. Right board right conditions.

     It’s only 1845, still a lot of daylight, when I catch a left and fall. Immediately, I feel the weight release from my ankle. My board is gone. I have to swim to get it. Luckily, Bri had jogged to Porto from home, so she’s standing on the shore holding my fish.

     The leash string is broken, and my hands are too numb to re tie it, so I call the session.

     Back at my car, I still can’t believe the lines coming in. It looks so fun out there. What a better way to end a day. I hope that the South Bay has more good evening sessions to come. 

BARREL SAMPLES, MON 10MAR2014

Loc: Manhattan Beach

Time: 0700-0900

Conditions: 5ft, walled, low tide, uncrowded

     I had to miss out on this weekend’s surf because of work, but now I’m here, ready to claim my rights to being a surfer.

     I like Porto, but I like free parking and minimum crowd factors too, so I surf here instead.

     Walking out to the beach, I find the lineup uncrowded, which is surprising. There’s Don Kadowaki to my north and a few guys scattered in front of the lifeguard tower. A minute later, and I see why: it’s kind of walled. But . . . the right in front of The Brick House is kind of working. Maybe the surf isn’t that walled. Sometimes you just catch days here where there aren’t that many people, another reason why I like this break.

     So I paddle out and wait where the rights are.

     On my first right, I pop up and find the wave already racing way ahead of me, so I straighten out. The same thing happens again, so I tell myself that this is a morning for pulling in.

     What’s good about these conditions is that the surf isn’t that big. Five feet on a low tide is still manageable for barrel practice. Another foot, and it might get sketchy.

     It’s been a while since I had to bust out the “pig dog,” but I do. Sometimes, pulling into backhand barrels is easier because you don’t really see the whole wave, all you’re doing is paddling in and grabbing rail from the start.

     I get two waves like this. The first, I don’t even remember anything. I get swirled up in the tube so fast that it’s like it never happened. I go really late on the next one, but I surprisingly drive a little bit inside the barrel. I see the space before me in front of the nose of my board, and the little slot where I can see the pier through the swirl of water, but I feel too far forward on my board and lose it. I think that’s part of my problem. I’m so used to getting “pinched” that I always pull in expecting it to be a suicide attempt.

     On the next right, I see that the shoulder opens up a little bit more, so I set up for one major hack off the lip. It feels good, my turn of the day. Back at the lineup, Uncle Miles even says I got a good one, and he barely talks!

     But I make some bad decisions on the next waves. Two more rights come, and I’m in perfect position. Avoiding a beating, I choose to seek the turns again instead of the barrels, and I fade out too far—I should have pulled in.

     The next right is walled, but I’m determined to pull in this time. I’m pumping on my backhand down the face. As the lip begins to curl, I grab rail and hunker down, but I get gobbled up in an instant.

     At the end of my session, a rare left comes my way. It has an open shoulder. I pull in, and get pinched once more.

    

     Thinking about that session now, I’m glad that I pulled in and tried, but I know that my mindset is also an issue. I find myself looking down at my board more than looking down the line, searching for an exit. I think I need to focus on that next; I need to get out of the mentality that I won’t make it out. 

NEW SWELL, WED 05MAR2014

Loc: El Porto (45^th St.)

Time: 0700-0900

Conditions: 6 FT, walled

     So far, the New Year has been great for the South Bay. There wasn’t much of a lull in between big swells, and on this Wednesday morning I’m lucky to score free parking on Rosecrans.

     I could walk further south to my favored beach break, but since I had so much fun on Monday, I figure 45^th will be the better call.

     The waves are about six feet and a little on the walled side, so I grab my Lost Mini Driver. I’ve been low on wax, forced to use my girlfriend’s colored wax that she got for Christmas, but I find a half bar of wax on my walk down to the water. A good omen.

     Rosecrans is looking good. A left lines up to shore, open shoulder and all. A guy paddles at the top of the peak and makes it, but some other guy paddles into the wave on the shoulder and snakes him. The guy who got snaked throws his hands in the air, while Snake just starts ripping, not even looking behind him, throwing buckets out the back.

     That’s not how I want my session to go, so I walk further north towards 45^th, the only problem is that the shape is not as good there, but . . . there are fewer heads.

Fish Hangover:

     My brother told me that it’s good to stick with one board for a long time in order to get it dialed in. “It’s not good to jump too much from one board to another,” he had said. But that’s exactly what I’ve been doing, but I’d like to think that I’m doing so in good judgment. Besides, I’ve been riding the Mini Driver since Java last summer, so I’ve been on it for a while.

     Paddling out in head high surf on my big-wave shortboard is harder than the fish though. I already struggle with the loss of nose volume. The board has less stability, rocking side to side easier. I feel slower.

BAMBOOZLED?:

     So I’m sitting out in the lineup with about six other guys. Wagner is out here, local ripper. He used to talk to me, but now he doesn’t even recognize me.

     Some guys are paddling into waves, but for the most part, we’re all watching the smoke stacks and Rosecrans, where there is actual shape.

     I go for a left, and as I’m sliding down the face, I see the whole thing wall up, so I bail just in time to jump back over the lip.

     On the sets, all of us dart out towards the outside. Even into the second hour, I tell myself that if I get just one good wave, this whole session will be worth it.

     And there is one good wave with shape, but I’m way too deep for it. I turn and go at the last second as the lip’s about to curl. A guy on the outside lets out a “Whoooh!” as I paddle in. I’m so late on the drop. Looking down at the nose of my board, I’m just waiting for it to go under and purl, but it doesn’t. However, when I reach the bottom, the wave bottoms out, and I fall backwards at the base of it.

     Out of frustration, I finally go for one that looks a little walled but might open up. I go left, and it closes out. On the inside, I look out the back and see the rest of the set coming in. I’ve been out for almost two hours, so I say fuck it and point my board to shore.

     In the parking lot, I run into Khang and Dais. I tell them about the surf this morning, and then a guy who I was sitting next to in the lineup also comes up and talks to them. He says how there’s an epic right breaking there and how he got some “sick waves.” The whole time I’m thinking . . . What the fuck are you talking about? I was sitting next to you the whole time, and you didn’t catch shit.

     Anyway, and that was that. Swell underestimated. If I knew it was going to be that big and walled, I would have went somewhere else.

     After I’m done changing, I’m curious to see what my favorite break is doing, so I drive further south and check it out. The surf here is only three quarters of the size than it was at Porto, it’s less crowded, and there’s shape.

     Sometimes Porto isn’t the best option. 

HIGH TIDE PORTO, MON 03MAR2014

Loc: El Porto (45^th St.)

Time: 0800-100

Conditions: 5 FT, mid-to-high tide, consistent

Swell of the Year:

     Yes, as everyone knows by now, that last big swell was effing crazy. Also (let me be humble and honest), I was one of the many who did not paddle out. There are tons of excuses, but don’t let me bore you with those.

     I had surfed Friday at PV when the swell was building, Saturday was out of the question (at least to me) with all the rain, and then I went to meet Rick on Sunday at Porto for a look. I had originally planned to go to PV, but I wanted to say hi to Rick.

     And there we stood, Rick, me, and two other guys. The parking lot was empty, the sky gray, and the water was pure chaos. Peaks breaking on peaks, the furthest out I’ve ever seen. Not one soul was out. I could’ve left for PV, but Rick insisted that we go to the rocks for a closer look. By the time we were done, Rick suggested going to Torrance Beach, but I was already over it. In my mind, my window of surf was over. I needed to get back to my homework.

When the swell dies:

     When the swell begins to taper off and get smaller, everyone comes out of the woodwork, including me. I woke up late, so Porto seemed like the best call.

     I arrived to a beautiful and semi crowded morning. The tide was going from mid to high, which made the peaks softer and inconsequential. There was still some decent size at five feet.

     Of course, I went with the fish. Why? Let me rewind . . .

     A few weeks ago, I pulled out all my boards from the garage and took a close look at their dimensions. I even took off the fins and set the boards on my table, comparing the rockers on each one, and then I had an epiphany: I haven’t been taking advantage of my quiver. My Lost Mini Driver should be for head-high-plus days. The Tokoro I have should be for playful, waist to shoulder high surf, but for peaks that stand up more during a low tide (HB peaks come to mind). My Motorboat Too has been neglected for months. Poor Motorboat, I haven’t used it since I came back from Java last summer. I went online to research once more what this board is meant for: mooshy, small, but rippable surf. Perhaps a good, three-foot day at Trestles. And the fish I just bought on Craigslist turns out to have a lot of rocker. At six feet, it’s still my go to board for big, fat peaks.

     So I paddled out on my fish, a long paddle out. Again I felt out of shape, rear delts burning. The lineup didn’t look crowded from the parking lot, but a lot of other people paddled out with me.

     In the lineup, I saw and greeted two other guys who were just watching it with me and Rick yesterday.

(switching to present tense)

     Feeling like I have the right board for the day, I take a look around. At least 75% of the surfers in the lineup are on potato-chip shortboards, so I’m hoping I’ll have a good advantage over them. But there are other guys on thicker, short, hybrid boards too.

     My first wave is a right, and the peak is so fat that it takes a while for me to set up perfectly for a turn. The shoulder is short, so I practice my backside cutback, but I lose the wave when I rebound off the lip. I’m realizing that the only successful, legit cutbacks I’ve ever done were at PV and Trestles, so my rail-to-rail surfing at beach breaks sucks.

     As the tide gets higher, the surf gets softer. I watch guys on their shortboards scratching for waves, getting left behind with their defeated strokes.

     But I can’t brag myself. I’m getting a good wave count, but not all of my waves are lining up right. I want the lefts, but the rights are working better.

     To end my session, I get a set-wave right. I trim until I’m almost towards the inside, and that’s when the shoulder stands up more. On this wide and fat fish, I draw a quick bottom turn and try to snap the lip. I say “try” because this fish does not “snap.” Too much board, but it still feels fluid and graceful as I disrupt the wave’s face, throwing some water out the back. I connect a second turn. On the last rippable section, I’m already on shallow water, so I bail.

     It’s the perfect way to end a session. Two solid turns on a board I’m breaking in.

     I need to get back to my studies, but from the parking lot the surf still looks good. Despite the tide push, there are peaks everywhere, even in front of the tanks. As much as I’d love to surf for another hour, my priorities call. Time to go to the library and spend the rest of the day with my laptop, but I’m glad that I at least caught it for a couple of hours.