AFTER FOOD POISONING, SAT 23MAY2015

Loc: El Porto, 40^th Street

Crew: Bri, Rick, Gary, Dave T.

Time: 0615-0745                  

Conditions: 2-3 FT, low tide, offshore, windswell

Board: Motorboat Too

     After being gone for a week, I had been looking forward to surfing again. Unfortunately, I got food poisoning my last day on duty. At first I thought it was a hangover, but when I started pissing out of my asshole into the second day, I realized it was a bit more serious than I had thought.

     On Friday night, after having a chance to recover since Tuesday, I get the text from Gary: “Where you surfing at, Duckbutter?” Initially I wanted to go to 26^th Street to get my local card stamped, but since the Gare Bear actually reached out to me, I figured it would be nice to catch up with him and the other guys as well.

#

     I wake up at 0530, which is late. Late because I know the WHC is already in the water at this very moment. “We’re late,” I say to Bri, but I don’t push too hard. I take my time getting up, eat a snack, fill our water jugs, and then I start to nudge her out of bed.

     The surf looks small on the way to Porto. I can’t tell if it’s actually decent enough to surf, but it doesn’t matter because I had already made the commitment to paddle out.

     Pulling into the parking lot, I already see everyone’s cars lined up and abandoned. Yup, they’re definitely out there.

     There’s some patchy overcast in the sky. If anything, it’s definitely not sunny. As soon as we reach the sand, we see three black wetsuits in front of 40^th Street, only two other guys are further north in front of the sandwich shack.

     One by one, Rick, Garr, and Dave each get waves, but the surf is a little lackluster. Consistent lines are rolling in on the low tide, but they just look too small to crank good carves on. It looked like more of a trimming and distance day than anything.

     With my new 4/3, I enter the water. It’s sealed water tight, save for the trickle that gets in through the backzip; I haven’t used one of these in a while.

     Gary spots us first. We wave. Pretty soon the five of us are holding down the spot.

     I can’t remember the last really good session that I’ve had. Even Churches a couple of weeks ago was a bit average on the stokometer, and I’m not expecting too much this morning. However, for what the small surf has to offer, these guys are attacking the waves indiscriminately, the same way they’d attack the surf on a rippable day. Rick goes backhand and throws out a bucket. As the morning goes on, despite a growing crowd, Gary finds himself in perfect position on two setwaves. On his pill, he just pumps down the line, making the sections, to set up for one finishing carve all the way on the inside, nearly halfway to the next tower north.

     I do all right. For a day like today, I get one backhand hack on a good open-face section. I put as much mustard as I can on it, letting out a week’s worth of pent up surf aggression and another four days of food poisoning on top of it.

     Paddling back to the lineup, I get thumbs up from the guys. One wave. Honorable mention. It’s a decent start to being back home.