LATE TRAIN PT.3, MON 16FEB2015

Loc: El Porto, The Tanks

Time: 1100-1230             

Conditions: 3 FT, onshore, sectiony.  

Board: 6’0 Kainalu Fish, twin keel

     Okay, this Valentine’s Day weekend has gone on long enough. Now there aren’t any excuses except for the lame ones: the tide’s too high, it will probably be better later, the bed feels too good, I’m tired.

     Bri and I circle around 26^th Street but fail at finding parking. Cliff is parked on the side, talking to Bruce. I wave at him as I drive by, and he just looks at me from under his shades with a facial expression that says, Who are you?

     Lame.

     We give up and head to Porto, finding free parking at my other secret garden. 45^th is packed and so are the bathrooms, but I already know that Bri and I are gonna surf The Tanks anyways, whatever it takes to escape the crowd.

     It must be the couple’s hour, because another dude and his chick are warming up right by us. The chick paddles out first, exhibiting a decent duck dive. “Your mission will be to surf better than her,” I say to Bri.

     “I think I already won,” says Bri. I look back over. The chick gets knocked off her board by a foot of whitewash and flounders helplessly.

     Bri has the Zippifish today, and I have my Kainalu. We were supposed to be surfing 26^th Street, which is smaller, but now I can tell we’re on the wrong boards. The waves here are a foot bigger than 26^th Street, onshore, sectiony, and punchy. The 6’0 fish is a corky board to duckdive. I know Bri’s having a hard time if I am.

     The other surf couple is now walking back on shore, heading north towards the jetty. Two other chicks are out right by us. Back in the day, this was my spot, the beginners’ arena where one surfs so as not to be in the way of other surfers, also to not look obviously kooky in front of other seasoned vets. This day, I see nothing has changed.

     Two other guys really know what they’re doing. They’re surfing well. Poachers they are, here in beginners’ territory to take fools to school, yet not wanting to deal with the 45^th Street contest.

     I get a right, causing those guys to have to back out for me. The surf isn’t fish conditions. I struggle to crank out a backhand snap, but my board feels sluggish and bulky. I redirect down the line, walk the nose, and throw in a gangster lean, something that shows that I know what I’m doing.

     But when the sets come, they’re consistent. I feel like I’m going nowhere on the duckdives.

     In the lineup, Bri’s having a challenging time. I can see that she’s not digging the fish. However, she does pop up on a decent right and takes it all the way in, so she’s making due.

     With our late paddle out, the wind turns strong onshore. The water’s choppy but still gives some shape. Although, the overcast sky is unwelcoming. I can just feel it in me, we should have woken up earlier.

     I still manage to get waves, but I’m not having fun on this board. When I had bought this, I was in need of a true small-wave board. Sure, this board may be better when it’s smaller, but I should still be able to get better turns on it. Even the Zippi performs better than this. Or . . . it could just be a bad choice in board selection. Regardless, the Kainalu Fish will be on the Craigslist chopping block.

     Late training it the last two days paid off, but today it just backfired. No more. I have to get on the dawn patrol program again.

LATE TRAIN PT.2, SUN 15FEB2015

"There's nothing healthy here," said the waitress.

 

Loc: Manhattan Beach, 26^th Street

Time: 0915-1100             

Conditions: 3 FT+, offshore, crowded.

Board: Lost Mini Driver, medium quad setup

     So Bri and I kind of celebrate Valentine’s Day again, so we’re sleeping in once more. The phone rings. It’s Klaude. Local’s the call.

     “I’ll see you there,” I say.

     “No rush,” he says.

     I look at my phone and see that I’ve been missing texts from Rick and the WHC since five this morning. Rick had sent one at 0545, saying, “Want me to pick you up?” Dave T. is already out of the water and had sent some pics of the surf. Perfect shape at Porto, and it looks a lot bigger than yesterday.

     With Bri hanging out with her homegirl today, that leaves Klaude and I to ourselves for a Sunday manstravaganza. I park at the same exact spot that I had parked at yesterday. Before changing, I get a call from Rick. “You need to come over to Porto,” he says. “It’s firing out here. Not even that crowded.”

     Looking down at the surf at 26^th Street, I haven’t seen one shoulder peel yet. It looks just like yesterday but bigger. I know Porto is better right now, but I just can’t deal with the crowd there. Even though Rick says it’s not crowded, I can’t take the chance.

     Gambling on my favorite local break, I walk down the hill. I shoot the shit with a random guy who’s changing. “There’s some good ones out there,” he says.

     I see Roy in the first lot, dripping wet and pulling off his wetsuit. “Nah,” he says while shaking his head. “Wasn’t that good.”

     Jose’s in the lot. Stocky John yells out the window for me to have a good session before the takes off. I just love this spot. It’s good to be a local.

     On the sand, I talk to a couple more people who are getting out of the water, each consensus different from the one prior. Like clockwork, most of the locals are leaving, and I’m in perfect time to clock in for the second shift.

     Even though the waves are racy, the shape looks a little bit better. Upon reaching the lineup, I get into a right. I know it’s gonna run away, so I pump with it and set up for one hack, but the wave mooshes out after the turn, and I don’t ride out of it.

     “Matt!” yells a voice in the distance. I look over. It’s Klaude, holding his hands up like: You didn’t see me? We paddle up to each other and shake hands because we’re way to cool for the hugging dismount nowadays. We both comment on how the surf is similar to yesterday. Turns out he had surfed yesterday, too, but at first light.

     We trade off on a couple of racy waves. Klaude’s on the inside when I get my first left. It’s a little sectiony, but it actually opens up. I’m a bit anxious to get some turns, but I’m a little off balance on my top turn, nearly falling backwards. Same thing on the second turn. Inside, I crouch down and try to set up for a final maneuver, but I end up just kicking out.

     “Saw you get a little chop hop,” says Klaude, when we meet up in the lineup again.

     It’s a crowded morning, plenty of new faces, typical for a weekend. Good waves take a while to come by, but a shouldery right pops up. “Go, Klaude, if you can get it,” I say. I’m in position, but Klaude’s right on the shoulder in a better spot. Pulling out, I see a guy all the way on the peak, towards my inside, making the drop. I watch the wave from behind to see if he’ll catch up to Klaude, but he gets churned up on the inside. The whole time I’m watching, I see Klaude going down the line all the way to shore.

     I work the lineup and paddle a bit north, and another peaky right is popping up out of the water. There’s a guy on the shoulder of the wave, but I turn and go on the peak. I guess I kind of backpaddled him, but well, I’ve never seen him before. What I’m doing is uncool, but I can pull a local card. Plus, I pull out for so many people all the time, I’m allowed to be human every now and then.

     The wave has much better shape than anticipated. I don’t want to blow it, so I do a conservative backhand snap, get down the line, and finish the wave off with one more.

     Paddling back to the lineup, Don K. smiles at me and says, “That was a good one!” It feels good to get validated by a local vet.

     My wave of the day is a left. I get lucky again and get the wave right behind the shoulder. Another local guy is in front of me, but he pulls out and hoots me onto it. It’s long but sectiony. I have to pump to get down the line. After the third turn, I’m all the way by The Brick House.

     Klaude calls the session and goes in. With the tide draining out, the waves get a little racier. Now it’s really looking like yesterday. I get out, too, and catch Klaude in the parking lot. Stoked off of the waves we got, we can’t quite go home yet. It’s a Man Love Brunch Sunday at Bob’s Hawaiian Restaurant. When we get there, we’re greeted by Jose, who’ a couple of booth’s over. Local minds think alike.

LATE TRAIN PT.1, SAT 14FEB2015

 

Loc: Manhattan Beach, 26^th Street

Time: 1000-1130             

Conditions: 3 FT, offshore, crowded, racy.

Board: Lost Mini Driver, medium quad setup

     After celebrating Valentine’s Day early, Bri and I sleep in. The tide’s supposed to be high at first light. There’s still supposed to be plenty of swell left. We should have been up already, but it’s also the weekend and officially Valentine’s Day. Why not get that extra cuddle time for the woman?

     Summer in February it is. Everything is perfect: blue sky, no clouds, no wind, and the hot California sun. Also, we score free parking, which is always a major plus.

     On the way towards The Strand, Bruce is talking to Cliff, who’s parked on the side of the road. Other than them two, not too many local regulars are around. They’ve probably already left.

     In the water, Don K. is unmistakably standing out, flying down the line on a racy left. Roy’s on the next one. He busts an air but loses his board, nearly getting clobbered by it.

     The lineup’s scattered with the surf at a fun-sized three feet, but there’s an issue with the shape. Maybe the tide’s backed off a little too much. The waves are coming in a little too lined, and they’re racy with a little shoulder at the end of them. It’s an issue of being right on the shoulder, and on a good one that won’t run away, at that.

     So we paddle out, me in my 4/3 and Bri in her 5/4. We had prepacked the car, so now we’re stuck with too much neoprene. Before long, I’m burning up in it. I catch up a little with Roy. He says the surf was better earlier. South of the tower is where the lefts are, but it’s also crowded there. I’d hate to compete against the local legends, so I sit a bit wide.

     I catch a right, force one snap, and then the wave bogs out on me. I’m a bit behind on a left. Roy hoots me in it from the inside. When I pop up, the lip’s already curling, so I pull in for a pinch with my mouth open. I swallow some water.

     A little north, poor Bri is over there corralled in by the weekend crowd, but at least Toru is out.

     We haven’t seen him in a while. Turns out he had pulled a hamstring surfing a couple of weeks ago and has been out since.

     The rest of the session is a bit frustrating. There’s the crowd and the poor shape, yet everyone is content to sit shoulder to shoulder for race-away shoulders.

     I catch a small insider that has a little shape and actually get two baby turns on it.

     Leaving the water, Bri and I aren’t disappointed at all. Yeah, the surf wasn’t great, and it was crowded, but we know that we asked for it. We were late, and this is what you have to expect when you are. Still, with the cool water from the shower running off of my face and down my wetsuit, I’m still glad to have paddled out.