FINALLY SWELL, SAT 29AUG2015

Loc: Manhattan Beach

Time: 0610-0810     

Conditions: 3-4 FT+, consistent, crowded

Board: Lost Mini Driver, 5’10

     I told Bri how gnarly the crowd was the day before, so there was no way that we’d be surfing on the second shift. Dawn patrol was the only option. Since I’ve been surfing consistently as of late, I’ve been on a better rest plan, eating early and in bed by 2300. When I woke up that Saturday, I had ample time to make coffee, which I barely do nowadays.

     We scored free parking at 0545. I expected a line full of cars, but barely anyone was there yet. The full moon was so bright. A bunch of people were out taking pics of it. The night before, Cassady had invited us to go night surfing in Malibu. I’ve never done it before, but I’d be a bit sketched about sharks.—Chinese food gives me the best farts ever.—We changed and were in the water fast, like the fourth and fifth people to enter the lineup. Ben, and older local white dude with thinning gray hair, was already out. Bri and I traded off waves with him for about fifteen minutes before more people showed up.

     The surf was consistent. I’ll give it that. I mean, it was one of those mornings where the inside was just wave upon wave. Resurfacing after rides, you’d either get clobbered by another wave or someone was already on one coming straight for you, so the inside was a little dangerous.

     Two noobs were just south of us, two really light-skin Asian dudes. I’m Asian myself, and I could only guess at them being Chinese. ANYWAY!. . . It could be a little hard for us to tell sometimes, too.—In junior high school, sixth thru seventh, chicks wouldn’t even fucking look at me. I was jacking off nonstop in those days. I remember how smooth my penis was, and now it looks like tree bark. I wish I were lying. . .—On this one right, fucking noobie-noob ate shit on his NSP. He wasn’t in the wave but he ate it just from sitting too deep as the wave broke, and his board shot forward and almost hit me. His friend, who could surf better out of the two, gave me that ashamed look like, Sorry, dude, my friend is learning. Okay, so I can understand that. Later on another right, fucking noobie-noob dropped in on me, fell backwards, and shot his board right in my line. My nose rocker barely made it over his rail, and I ended up rail grinding his board.

     When we resurfaced, I turned around and yelled out, “You fucking idiot!”

     “I’m sorry!” he said.

     I cursed at him some more, but my main concern was my board. With waves pounding on the inside, I took my beating and just held my board, examining it for any signs of damage. Meanwhile, homeboy paddled back out.

     “Dude,” said a guy who saw the whole thing. “If he hadn’t hit you, he would’ve plowed straight into me!”

     I was amazed that my board didn’t get dinged.

     Dude continued, “If it’s dinged, I’ll fix it.”

     I thanked him but declined and paddled back out. No damage, but I was still fucking pissed. The two noobs paddled away, and within minutes half the fucking South Bay paddled out.

     Tom, Collin, Calvin who I hadn’t seen in about a year, was even out. You would have thought that no one had traveled for surf.

     During the low tide, the waves would hit the sandbar and just double up really fast. I went late on a few of these and got pitched, legit pitched. To think I thought I had been progressing in barrel hunting.

     There were plenty of waves, but the lineup was just chaos. A current pulled most people north, so I fought against it the whole time to stay in front of the tower. There were momentary gaps in the lineup when I had space.

     One guy was tearing it up on a fish, a less cute version of Craig Anderson. Craig snaked Bri on a right. When they nearly collided on the inside, he just got back on his board and paddled back out.

     I went up to him and said, “You know, if you’re gonna drop in on that chick, the least you can do is apologize to her.”

     He turned around, searching, as if he didn’t know what he had done.

     “Dude, you see me almost get barreled!?” some guy yelled at Craig from another peak.

     Crowds. I never wanted to be that guy who has to sound people, but I surf here too fucking much to deal with this shit. Etiquette, etiquette, etiquette.

     This other local guy, who has a Rising Sun tattooed on his neck, got run over by a random noob, too.

     Tom called me into a big right. This older longboard local backed out for me and told me to go. It had a long section, but my quads helped me make it. With a lot of speed, I got a frontside snap, but nearly fell from my momentum, and then I kissed my board off the lip right before it closed out. I rode straight to shore afterwards.