LATE TRAIN PT.2, SUN 15FEB2015

"There's nothing healthy here," said the waitress.

 

Loc: Manhattan Beach, 26^th Street

Time: 0915-1100             

Conditions: 3 FT+, offshore, crowded.

Board: Lost Mini Driver, medium quad setup

     So Bri and I kind of celebrate Valentine’s Day again, so we’re sleeping in once more. The phone rings. It’s Klaude. Local’s the call.

     “I’ll see you there,” I say.

     “No rush,” he says.

     I look at my phone and see that I’ve been missing texts from Rick and the WHC since five this morning. Rick had sent one at 0545, saying, “Want me to pick you up?” Dave T. is already out of the water and had sent some pics of the surf. Perfect shape at Porto, and it looks a lot bigger than yesterday.

     With Bri hanging out with her homegirl today, that leaves Klaude and I to ourselves for a Sunday manstravaganza. I park at the same exact spot that I had parked at yesterday. Before changing, I get a call from Rick. “You need to come over to Porto,” he says. “It’s firing out here. Not even that crowded.”

     Looking down at the surf at 26^th Street, I haven’t seen one shoulder peel yet. It looks just like yesterday but bigger. I know Porto is better right now, but I just can’t deal with the crowd there. Even though Rick says it’s not crowded, I can’t take the chance.

     Gambling on my favorite local break, I walk down the hill. I shoot the shit with a random guy who’s changing. “There’s some good ones out there,” he says.

     I see Roy in the first lot, dripping wet and pulling off his wetsuit. “Nah,” he says while shaking his head. “Wasn’t that good.”

     Jose’s in the lot. Stocky John yells out the window for me to have a good session before the takes off. I just love this spot. It’s good to be a local.

     On the sand, I talk to a couple more people who are getting out of the water, each consensus different from the one prior. Like clockwork, most of the locals are leaving, and I’m in perfect time to clock in for the second shift.

     Even though the waves are racy, the shape looks a little bit better. Upon reaching the lineup, I get into a right. I know it’s gonna run away, so I pump with it and set up for one hack, but the wave mooshes out after the turn, and I don’t ride out of it.

     “Matt!” yells a voice in the distance. I look over. It’s Klaude, holding his hands up like: You didn’t see me? We paddle up to each other and shake hands because we’re way to cool for the hugging dismount nowadays. We both comment on how the surf is similar to yesterday. Turns out he had surfed yesterday, too, but at first light.

     We trade off on a couple of racy waves. Klaude’s on the inside when I get my first left. It’s a little sectiony, but it actually opens up. I’m a bit anxious to get some turns, but I’m a little off balance on my top turn, nearly falling backwards. Same thing on the second turn. Inside, I crouch down and try to set up for a final maneuver, but I end up just kicking out.

     “Saw you get a little chop hop,” says Klaude, when we meet up in the lineup again.

     It’s a crowded morning, plenty of new faces, typical for a weekend. Good waves take a while to come by, but a shouldery right pops up. “Go, Klaude, if you can get it,” I say. I’m in position, but Klaude’s right on the shoulder in a better spot. Pulling out, I see a guy all the way on the peak, towards my inside, making the drop. I watch the wave from behind to see if he’ll catch up to Klaude, but he gets churned up on the inside. The whole time I’m watching, I see Klaude going down the line all the way to shore.

     I work the lineup and paddle a bit north, and another peaky right is popping up out of the water. There’s a guy on the shoulder of the wave, but I turn and go on the peak. I guess I kind of backpaddled him, but well, I’ve never seen him before. What I’m doing is uncool, but I can pull a local card. Plus, I pull out for so many people all the time, I’m allowed to be human every now and then.

     The wave has much better shape than anticipated. I don’t want to blow it, so I do a conservative backhand snap, get down the line, and finish the wave off with one more.

     Paddling back to the lineup, Don K. smiles at me and says, “That was a good one!” It feels good to get validated by a local vet.

     My wave of the day is a left. I get lucky again and get the wave right behind the shoulder. Another local guy is in front of me, but he pulls out and hoots me onto it. It’s long but sectiony. I have to pump to get down the line. After the third turn, I’m all the way by The Brick House.

     Klaude calls the session and goes in. With the tide draining out, the waves get a little racier. Now it’s really looking like yesterday. I get out, too, and catch Klaude in the parking lot. Stoked off of the waves we got, we can’t quite go home yet. It’s a Man Love Brunch Sunday at Bob’s Hawaiian Restaurant. When we get there, we’re greeted by Jose, who’ a couple of booth’s over. Local minds think alike.