THE GAUGE, WED 15APR015

Photo courtesy of Gary C. The recon text pic after his morning sesh.

 

Loc: El Porto, 42^nd Street                            

Time: 0920-1120

Conditions: 2-3 FT+, light onshore, soft, inconsistent.  

Board: 5’10 Mini Driver

     After getting bamboozled the last two mornings, I decide to sit out the dawn patrol and wait for the tide to go down a little. It seems logical. I check the surf cams. Nope. Too swampy.

     Bri’s only window to surf is in the mornings. She goes to Porto to run on the beach. She texts me and says that it’s still soft. When she’s done with her run, she says that Rosecrans is surfable.

     On cue, I get a text from Gary. He says that it’s been fun since first light and adds a photo for proof.

     Fifteen minutes later, I score free parking at 26^th Street. I spot Roy walking back to his car, dripping wet. Dang. The peaks look soft again. Opening my rear hatch, I find that I had forgotten to pack my wetsuit. . .

     Twenty minutes later I’m pulling into the Porto lot. It’s crowded. Parking starts to open at the bathrooms. I pull in. Before locking up my car, I step up to the railing and have a looksee. Fuck. Still looks soft. 45^th is semi decent but that’s also where at least two dozen surfers are sitting. Rosecrans does look good. While 42^nd looks lullish, I decide to chance it there. The tide’s going down, it may get better, and it’s less crowded.

     My first wave is a racy left. I fall on a floater and feel some tension release from my ankle. The ancient leash that Rick had given me a while back is now done.

     Ten minutes later, after a leash swap and a rewax, I’m back in the lineup. Lulls. It takes a while for a good set to show up. The longboarders are ruling this morning. Only if 45^th wasn’t so crowded. I get another left and stick a floater. Later, I catch a right and get a backhand snap, but it lacks “umph.” I still gotta get this board dialed in.

     About an hour in, the onshore wind starts to pick up a little more. A long peak rolls in, and, finally, I’m in perfect position on the shoulder. Popping up, the section stands up and starts to run away. I pump and find myself with a perfect three-foot plus open-face canvas. Now you can imagine what I’m thinking. Here I am, been waiting here all morning for a wave to finally open up on with this board. It’s like slow motion bottom turning to set up for my carve. Responsive, I climb the face with speed. Turning my shoulders back into the wave and torqueing at the waist, I bring the board back under my feet as I pull off a carving wrap. Redirecting down the line, I force a couple whitewash floaters and get a little more distance. It’s my wave of the day. Nothing else after. It’s the only gauge I have for how this board’s working for me.

PARTY’S OVER, TUE 14APR015

 

Loc: Manhattan Beach                                 

Time: 0730-0930

Conditions: 2-3 FT, light onshore, soft.  

Board: 5’10 Mini Driver

    

     After being gone during the weekend for work, I had to hear the stories about how good the surf was on Sunday. While stuck in uniform, I had to scroll through text messages reading about everyone’s stoke and seeing pics of the various South Bay breaks. When I got home Sunday night, I couldn’t wait to paddle out the next morning.

     Fast forward to Monday morning. I’m at my favorite local break looking at weak lines that break close to shore. I drive to Porto hoping for more size. I watch it for fifteen minutes. Fellow local, Raymond H., walks up to the shower and starts shaking his head when he sees me.

     “Don’t do it,” he says. “Not unless you’re desperate.”

     I hear murmurs throughout the parking lot. “It’s like night and day compared to yesterday,” says one guy. “The windswell completely evaporated.”

     That night, I continued my Craigslist search for a new stick. After realizing how much my Motorboat Too is a specialty board that works best in mooshy beach break or soft point break, and after feeling how my 6’0 Lost Mini Driver is a little too big for me at 32 Liters, I’ve been looking for New Flyers. Of course, there aren’t any, at least not under the specs that I’m looking for. There was one listing for a Lost Mini Driver, a 5’10. With slightly tapered down dimensions from my 6’0, I thought that this would be a good purchase.

     That night, I went to Bay Street Boards in Santa Monica. They guy who worked their introduced himself as Sontay. He already had the board laid out for me. Save for a small crack on the tail’s glassing and a pressure ding on the deck, it was a pretty solid board. $340 out the door with wax and fins included.

     I had already been frothing for surf, so you can imagine how I was after a board purchase. Tuesday was going to be the day to get my rip on with my new stick.

 

#

     It’s 0700 when I show up to Manhattan Beach. Fuckin’ A. The surf still looks soft. South of the 26^th Street Tower, the high school groms are mobbing a left. Their rides are short and close to shore but clean. I grab my earphones and go for a run on the sand to wait for the tide to drop.

     33^rd Street has a clean A-frame, but it’s still soft. Some longboarders are on it. I make it all the way to 45^th Street and turn around there. Porto doesn’t look much better.

     Back at 26^th Street, the surf hasn’t improved by much, but I can’t wait any longer. My fresh purchase is waxed and ready to get wet. Dead or alive, waves or no waves, I’m paddling out.

     Roy shows up. So does Ross. Costco Kim is out, and so are a bunch of other sniveling jackals who I don’t recognize. I came to surf, to get some open faces, to see what this board can do.

     First thing I notice is the lack of volume from my 6’0. My 4/3 also feels thicker than usual. Arms sticky, my time out of the water has me rusty.

     I paddle and kick my way into waves, but upon initiating my turns, the waves bog out. While the in-between waves are too soft, the sets stretch out along the beach and become racy. No good shape today. I wonder if I would have been better off with my Zippifish, but who would want to ride that with a new board in the quiver?

     Stubbornly, I catch shit waves for two hours, hoping for the window to change and for shape to improve. It doesn’t happen. It’s a no-turn Tuesday.

     Yeah. I should’ve been true to the conditions. I knew the surf looked soft, and I used the wrong surf craft for today. Anxious, I made the wrong decision. And then I think about Sunday and the session I missed. It’s not missing the surf that bums me out so much as how I missed surfing with everyone, all the locals who Bri, myself, and the DRC know. Seeing the poor conditions the last two days, and how empty the lineup is, it makes me feel like I showed up to the party late with everyone gone—no chicks, dicks, or beers left. Should’ve been here earlier. Should’ve been here yesterday. Sunday was the day.