Sunday, August 30, 2015

FINALLY SWELL PT.2, SUN 30AUG2015


Loc: Manhattan Beach
Time: 0630-0930     
Conditions: 4-5 FT, consistent, crowded
Board: Lost Mini Driver, 5’10
     --So I’m at Starbucks right now, and a chick went up to pick up her drink at the counter and just knocked it over. Water everywhere. No bullshit. Now she’s grabbing a gang of napkins to clean it up. At least it wasn’t coffee. . .—When I prepacked my car last night, I fucking examined the bottom of my board again for any indications that Noobie-Noob had dinged my board. I found some straight lines that looked like scrapes, but I couldn’t tell if they were from yesterday.
#
     Alarm goes off. It’s 0530. We sleep in a little because low tide is later and plus we had a long evening barbecuing at my best friend’s house in Inglewood. I showed one of my childhood friends, who we had recently reconnected with, pics of us from twenty years ago. He couldn’t believe it. Robert Cervantes. It was like we were kids all over again. It’s in the eyes where people look the same. Even though years have passed, I found him there.
     Anyway, this morning I’m not in the mood for bullshit. I ponder at the scrapes on my board and if I need to say something else to Noobie-Noob if he paddles out.
     When we get to the beach, more people are here at this time than yesterday. Big Ben’s out in the lineup early. It’s basically Dejavu, except the waves are breaking differently today. I don’t know what’s going in with the swell, if it’s ground, windswell, or a combination of both, but scattered peaks are breaking everywhere, and they are clean.
     I’m frothing in my panties, so I paddle out just south of the tower. Young Mike and Rising-Sun Guy are out, too. I pass on the turns and just try to pull in, but my first couple waves don’t throw out, which is probably noobish, pulling into nothing. However, when the tide is low, it’s when you have the best chance for it, so I might as well try.
     Some young buck drops in on me on a left. Fuck. I’m really sharp and short after yesterday. “You didn’t see me behind you?” I say.
     “No, dude. Sorry. I didn’t.”
     No sign of Noobie Noob, but I’m over him. I’m just . . . I’m gonna turn into “that guy.” I know it. I feel it. I’m gonna end up being a bad guy to a lot of people.
     Bri’s doing well. Other people are watching her as she paddles for waves. Thank goodness she uses her feet, too. She kicks. Those three weeks in Indo really helped her. Her popups improved, not to her full potential but fast enough for her to get up earlier on the waves and surf them better. It’s a huge difference from popping up late. You can’t set yourself up right if you do.
     Going down the line, making sections, not throwing buckets out the back, but she’s trying to hit that lip. Tom, Collin, those guys acknowledge her, too. She’s the best chick out here, even surfing better than some guys.
     I get pinched on one backhand attempt. Bad move. I don’t know if I’ll ever get right-hand barrels. I pull in on the lefts and get a few pinch glimpses. On one, I’m just too far ahead of the pocket and miss the hollow section, but I still believe that I can do it, that I might get barreled today.
     This one left has a perfect shoulder to it. Instead of pulling in right away, I try to fade out first to set myself up. Bad move number two. I have so much speed that when I pull in I just go through the face of the wave. Ha! Idiot.
     Wave of the morning. . . I catch this left that’s standing up, but it’s shaped like it’s gonna be a spiller instead of a barrel. I pop up and go down the face, and then the bottom just sucks out. The face, which just had been shouldery, now stretches out and sections. A wall stands up next to me, and water just starts throwing out over my head. No, it’s not one of those pussy barrels I try to pull into when I’m already on the shoulder,--Dude, now this lady is complaining about not having enough “caramel cream” in her drink. I fucking hate customer service. Fuck the customer.—but the ride started off mellow and is now in full barrel mode. So I’m strobing inside of it, legit. Jagged shapes of light penetrate through the smooth surface. The lip is clear as it curls over me. I see the slot closing just a few feet away, and I’m thinking, Motherfucker, I’m actually gonna MAKE IT out!!!! Within a flash, my mind is already fast forwarding to that victory moment when I come flying out, triumphantly, and then . . . typical Donny D., I lose it. I somehow get fucking pinched. Man . . . when you’re sucking at barrels everything is just happening so fast. I’ve progressed to where I’ve slowed down time a little, but not enough, at least not enough to make it out.
     Resurfacing, I’m filled with a mix of jubilation and disappointment. I paddle back and share my story. I just can’t let it go.
     We link up with Klaude, and there’s a moment when we’re sitting with just all the regular locals at one peak. Even though it’s crowded, I feel safe and at east being surrounded by familiar faces. I share, tell others to go, not taking it until they acknowledge I can have it. However, I do snake Klaude on a right. Friends can snake friends.
     My highlight rides are the rights. I get plenty single-hitter snaps. My paddle feels strong. Dropping in, I feel powerful on my setup into the hook. It’s not critical surfing but at least something that I know I can do well.
     At the two-and-a-half hour mark, Bri gets out. I leave a half hour later. We stay to help KK set up his EZ Up and supplies. He’s teaching the kids he coaches how to surf today. He’s a much more selfless man than I am, dedicating his whole Sunday.
     Bri and I eat at Mandy’s afterwards, and then she leaves to help her friend move. My apartment’s been stifling hot, so hot that right now I’m sitting inside a Starbucks, having killed a Strawberry Shortcake Frappuccino over an hour ago. My blogs are all caught up on. This was a productive week. I’ve job searched, surfed, took some tests online for the jobs I applied for, went to my homie’s barbecue, and now I’m about to go home and play some COD on PS4. Ha! You have no idea how stoked I am. I’m gonna “crack open a beer” and be a PIECE OF SHIT for the REST OF THE DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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