Loc: Manhattan Beach
Time: 0645-0915
Crew: Bri, Klaude
Conditions: 3-4 FT, glassy, sunny, crowded
I
don’t know how many days in a row Bri and I have surfed, but I know we have
some sort of streak going on. Nowadays, we’re in bed by 1100, up by 0600, and
in the water no later than 0700.
We’re
not expecting much surf, but Klaude said it was “all right” yesterday, so why
not go out for a check. When we pull up, we’re surprised to see some peaks
mixed in with some broken up lines. Also, there’s some size.
On
the way down the hill, someone yells out to us, “Why you in a wetsuit? The
water’s been warm.”
It’s
Roy. I smile, wave, and continue down to the sand. It’s his way of saying good
morning, but at the same time, I tell myself that I better be in boardshorts
next time I’m here.
More
people are coming out. Bri and I paddle out north of the tower, but the lefts
at the next break over are too good to pass up. “I’m paddling over,” I say to
Bri.
I
sit with Mitch. Orlando and Jose make it out. Ten minutes later, nearly the
whole 26th Street Ohana’s in the lineup, minus Ross and Don K., and
. . . Klaude.
A
perfect right comes my way, but the two other locals were their first, so I
back out. None of them get it. Fuck. Should’ve gone. And . . . the rest of the
session is just hard to secure a legit wave to myself.
In
the distance, Bri has a gap in the lineup, milking inside rights. Bruce and
Costco Kim are sharing with her. Roy paddles over the shoulder, hooting her on
a wave.
I
get my share of waves, but nothing too significant, and it’s not even a fault
to the conditions, it’s just the crowd I struggle with.
The
wind turns onshore, the water choppy. The surf’s picking up in size, but
quality’s going down.
Klaude
shows up. Bri and I stay out another half hour to get some facetime with him. We
end up at Mandy’s in El Segundo for breakfast. “After this, we probably shouldn’t
go out to eat for a while,” I say. “We have Indo coming up.”
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