Time: 1100-1230
Crew: Bri
Conditions: 1-2 FT, offshore, inconsistent, swampy.
Board: Zippifish
Yesterday, Klaude called me after dawn
patrolling 26th Street. “Don’t even bother,” he said. He had just
finished skating from 26th to Porto. “One peak was kind of working,
but too many guys on it. Roy was out at 26th, but he wasn’t catching
shit.” I look at surfcam. Yeah. Looks choppy and unorganized.
This morning, Bri and I are sleeping in.
Sundays are her only full days off, so I make sure not to rush her if I can
avoid it. Tide’s high anyway. Klaude calls again. Same story, but this time he’s
parked outside.
We invite him in for coffee and a veggie
smoothie. Poor guy. Tax season has him so busy, and this whole weekend has been
a letdown for surf. Skunked twice in a row.
When he leaves, Bri and I take our time
getting ready. Maybe now that it’s later the tide will be lower. Maybe now’s
the right window to surf.
We score parking at one of my reliable
free-parking sites. Looking down the hill, I see lines coming in, but they just
keep on rolling until they turn into shorepound. The whole time, I don’t see
one wave peel in front of 27th.
Zippi in hand, I’m hoping for the best.
When we reach the sand, we see more surfers by Marine that we weren’t able to
see from the hill. A set rolls through, giving some soft lefts. It’s a little
promising.
When we paddle out, I say hi to Roy. He
says that yesterday was bigger and more fun. I nod and smile back at a few
familiar faces, but each face has that oh-well look to it, the surf-sucks-but-I’m-here
look. And my, there’s a pack sitting on that left. As much as I don’t want to
sit on them, I kind of have to.
Bri paddles further south and sits at the edge
of the crowd. The Becker’s not enough board this morning. She scratches and can’t
get shit. The waves are pure boggers. I tell her that we should paddle back
north, and then an outside set rolls in. It’s only three feet, but it catches
everyone off guard, and now the whole lineup is duckdiving it. Just like that,
the sun comes out, giving the whole beach a makeover. It looks like a day that
should have good waves.
Don K. paddles out, but he’s with the other
local vets sitting more towards the inside. The waves do get a little more
consistent and start standing up more, but the lower tide makes them racy. The
wind shifts, and the now the surf is slightly choppy and closed out.
Bri and I leave. I know that I’m
unsatisfied, but we’re glad to have spent the Sunday this way. However, man . .
. I really haven’t had a good session in a while. This aggression cannot stand.
There’s a south forecasted on Wednesday. Maybe then I can redeem myself for
last week’s bad call not to go. I hope I score.
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