AT THE RIGHT SPOT, THU 22JAN2015

 

Loc: Manhattan Beach, 26th Street

Time: 0800-0930   

Crew: Klaude

Conditions: 2-3 FT+, sunny, warm, offshore, high tide

Board: 6’0 Lost Mini Driver, medium quads

     At 0600 I turn off my alarm and close my eyes, a vicious gamble for one who had planned to dawn patrol six hours ago. Yet, there’s a chance that I’ll shake the sleep trance off, open my eyes once more, inhale deeply, take in the silence, and sit up out of bed. I open my eyes. 0717.

     There goes the window that I had hoped to catch, critical today with an easing swell and a six-foot plus high tide. Klaude said he’d be out there. I picture him getting out as I’m just walking on the sand, Klaude throwing up his arms saying, “What the fuck?” Main thing is that I show up and surf. You always regret it when you don’t. At least I do.

     To my surprise, I score VIP parking on 27^th Street. Usually Vietvet Mike parks here, but for some reason, while every other street spot is taken, this one is vacant. Right when I pull up, there’s a long peak breaking. It’s soft, but there are shoulders at the end. Surfers are on them, ripping. It’s a mashed down A-frame. There’s a main pack in front of the brick house. I already know I’ll be sitting wide south of them.

     When I get to the lineup, the ocean goes stagnant. I search for Klaude but don’t see him. 33^rd Street has peaks. Marine has a left that stands up. The next wave breaks at the brick house, and everyone’s on it. A right finally swings wide. Sliding down its face, I see the shoulder stand up and start to stretch out, but it’s not going round, just spilling. I chance a springing pump off the bottom turn and am surprised at how fast I climb the face, but I climb too fucking high and lose the wave. Lost turn.

     The high tide begins to slow things down. I’ll be lucky to get a decent wave. I missed the good window. Someone’s paddling up to me. It’s Klaude.

     “I don’t know what happened?” he says. I paddled out, got a three-turn wave, and then everyone paddled out.” It turns out that Klaude had only been here for a half hour.  

     We paddle further away from the pack and sit on 26^th. In the short distance south, we see the lefts in the Marine area. Klaude paddles towards it and says, “I’m gonna get on that. Can’t just look at it anymore.”

     I paddle with him but notice a bump out the back, so I swing back around and paddle towards the outside. Lucky me. It’s the first wave of the next juicy set. Even though the peak is more north, it’s stretching out so far that I’m right on the shoulder. Dropping in, the shoulder stretches out, but its face is holding. I bottom turn and crank out a solid backhand snap. Going down the line, I wind up once more. A second, a third on the inside. Wow, fucking three turns. Didn’t expect that. I see Klaude in the distance, scoring my wave a 6.

     And for some reason, even though the tide is getting higher, I just somehow find myself in the right spot at the right time, unfortunately at Klaude’s expense. We’re at odds. He sits inside, a wave breaks outside. He sits outside, a wave breaks inside. I’m at where he’s not, so I get at least three decent waves in a row. Even the insiders are fun. Other than a left-hand cutback, my best waves are on the rights going backside.

     “If I’m on it, just go,” I say to Klaude.

     “Nah, I’m all right,” he says. He wears an unsatisfying smirk.

     Just then, a peak starts to stand up on the outside. We both paddle for it and then say, “Nahhhh,” because it looks like we’ve been faked out, but then it hits the sandbar and stands up even more. It’s a right. Klaude’s on my outside. I paddle into the wave with Klaude right in front of me. “Go!” I say as I kick out. From behind, it looks like a decent wave, a little racy but open. He bashes the lip as the wave closes out, going down with it.

     When I’m all done and changed back at my car, I sit on the strand and just soak in the moment. Everything is perfect. The offshore breeze is light. The sun and the air are warm. Soft glassy peaks still break, still providing good rides for the third shifters. Other than the slight patter from joggers, all I can hear are the waves breaking. Even though I’m no longer in the water, for some reason, I just don’t want to leave.