Loc:
Manhattan Beach, 26th Street
Time:
0800-0930
Crew: Klaude
Conditions:
2-3 FT+, sunny, warm, offshore, high tide
Board:
6’0 Lost Mini Driver, medium quads
At 0600 I turn off my alarm and close my
eyes, a vicious gamble for one who had planned to dawn patrol six hours ago.
Yet, there’s a chance that I’ll shake the sleep trance off, open my eyes once
more, inhale deeply, take in the silence, and sit up out of bed. I open my
eyes. 0717.
There goes the window that I had hoped to
catch, critical today with an easing swell and a six-foot plus high tide.
Klaude said he’d be out there. I picture him getting out as I’m just walking on
the sand, Klaude throwing up his arms saying, “What the fuck?” Main thing is
that I show up and surf. You always regret it when you don’t. At least I do.
To my surprise, I score VIP parking on 27th
Street. Usually Vietvet Mike parks here, but for some reason, while every other
street spot is taken, this one is vacant. Right when I pull up, there’s a long
peak breaking. It’s soft, but there are shoulders at the end. Surfers are on
them, ripping. It’s a mashed down A-frame. There’s a main pack in front of the
brick house. I already know I’ll be sitting wide south of them.
When I get to the lineup, the ocean goes
stagnant. I search for Klaude but don’t see him. 33rd Street has
peaks. Marine has a left that stands up. The next wave breaks at the brick
house, and everyone’s on it. A right finally swings wide. Sliding down its
face, I see the shoulder stand up and start to stretch out, but it’s not going
round, just spilling. I chance a springing pump off the bottom turn and am
surprised at how fast I climb the face, but I climb too fucking high and lose
the wave. Lost turn.
The high tide begins to slow things down. I’ll
be lucky to get a decent wave. I missed the good window. Someone’s paddling up
to me. It’s Klaude.
“I don’t know what happened?” he says. I
paddled out, got a three-turn wave, and then everyone paddled out.” It turns out that Klaude had only been here
for a half hour.
We paddle further away from the pack and sit
on 26th. In the short distance south, we see the lefts in the Marine
area. Klaude paddles towards it and says, “I’m gonna get on that. Can’t just
look at it anymore.”
I paddle with him but notice a bump out the
back, so I swing back around and paddle towards the outside. Lucky me. It’s the
first wave of the next juicy set. Even though the peak is more north, it’s
stretching out so far that I’m right on the shoulder. Dropping in, the shoulder
stretches out, but its face is holding. I bottom turn and crank out a solid
backhand snap. Going down the line, I wind up once more. A second, a third on
the inside. Wow, fucking three turns. Didn’t expect that. I see Klaude in the
distance, scoring my wave a 6.
And for some reason, even though the tide
is getting higher, I just somehow find myself in the right spot at the right time,
unfortunately at Klaude’s expense. We’re at odds. He sits inside, a wave breaks
outside. He sits outside, a wave breaks inside. I’m at where he’s not, so I get
at least three decent waves in a row. Even the insiders are fun. Other than a
left-hand cutback, my best waves are on the rights going backside.
“If I’m on it, just go,” I say to Klaude.
“Nah, I’m all right,” he says. He wears an
unsatisfying smirk.
Just then, a peak starts to stand up on the
outside. We both paddle for it and then say, “Nahhhh,” because it looks like we’ve
been faked out, but then it hits the sandbar and stands up even more. It’s a
right. Klaude’s on my outside. I paddle into the wave with Klaude right in
front of me. “Go!” I say as I kick out. From behind, it looks like a decent
wave, a little racy but open. He bashes the lip as the wave closes out, going
down with it.
When I’m all done and changed back at my
car, I sit on the strand and just soak in the moment. Everything is perfect.
The offshore breeze is light. The sun and the air are warm. Soft glassy peaks
still break, still providing good rides for the third shifters. Other than the
slight patter from joggers, all I can hear are the waves breaking. Even though
I’m no longer in the water, for some reason, I just don’t want to leave.
