Beater Beatings

Bruh...so I did end up paddling out after the last post. I couldn't help myself. I was already having myself a loser day, being unproductive, and I wasn't in the mood to write, so I headed to El Porto for an afternoon session. Surprisingly, it was damn near offshore with just a light variable wind. It was a hot and humid day, and the water was crystal clear and glassy with a dropping tide. However, one major thing was missing...shape. Fuckin' A, I can't say it was flat, boring, or stagnant. In fact, the sets were pretty juicy and easily shoulder high. I don't know if it's just the south swell not hitting the South Bay right or bad sandbars, but, no matter how some waves looked like they had shoulders, they would just race and dump on the inside. I mean, straight up Dump Rider Crew status. Despite how printing the conditions were, it was hard to catch anything with a resemblance of a shoulder. Even the small in-between-set insiders were running away. My Beater, as fun as it is, can only do so much when the surf is closing out. But I was on a Beater, wasn't I, a fucking sponge. So I hit the "fuck-it button" and started going for glory. Yeah, I was going for everything--the bombs, the closeouts. It was nice knowing that I was on a board of no consequence to my weathered face. And even when I had to bail under the lip, sinking the Beater is no problem, but an awkward wipeout is still an awkward wipeout, so I had to take care not to break my neck on the sand.

My best wave was a right that actually stayed open, but of course some guy had to drop in on me. Then a chick dropped in on him and was like, "Oh, I'm so sorry!" And the dude was like, "No worries." Meanwhile, I'm thinking, Really? Where's the consideration for the first guy who got bagged?

Well, I don't want to be that guy who gets into fights in the lineup, but sometimes I feel like I'm justified to talk some shit. Yet, I'm was a surfing a purple Beater that has a unicorn and a rainbow on the bottom of it. I guess I wouldn't take anyone seriously who's on such a surf craft.

So now I'm sitting here at Churches, having been skunked during the choppy morning sesh. But upon returning from My breakfast at Sonic, I see that conditions have cleaned up. The wind has died and the chop is gone. Aside from a high tide, conditions are pristine. Now I just have to decide if I'm riding the Beater or Puddle Jumper.

Has to be More Than Just Waves

            What do you really want out of surfing? Catching waves can’t be your whole world because there are days when there are no waves, or the waves suck, or the lineup is just too fucking crowded to get one wave alone.

            Yesterday morning I sat in the El Porto parking lot, after already checking 26^th and 33^rd Street, and had to have the internal debate on whether or not I’d be paddling out or going back home. I had already looked at the Surfline cam before rolling out of bed (and thank you, Surfline, for over hyping the forecast) and knew that the surf sucked. Still, I was there looking at pretty decent energy rolling into the South Bay but no shape at all to go along with it.

            Making the dawn patrol takes some commitment, doesn’t it? To wake up, pack a hot-water jug, load all your equipment, and make that drive to the beach. It’s like packing for a short airplane trip, but we never expect to come home without ever boarding the plane. These dawn patrols take time, and when we don’t paddle out, it’s time we don’t get back. We could’ve just stayed in bed and slept for an extra hour, worked on that story or novel you’ve been meaning to finish, read, workout, or just do whatever else you have to take care of during your precious time. TIME. My old platoon sergeant used to say that there’s nothing more precious than a soldier’s time.

            Yesterday, I said fuck it and paddled out with zero expectation, and as much as I’d like to set you up for a feel-good post about surfing crap being better than not surfing at all, I’m not going there. I knew the surf was shit, and it’s hard to turn a closeout into a legit stoke. Yeah, the water felt nice, the sun was warm on my face, and I could also hear the ripper in the lineup yell, “Fuck!” in frustration to every closeout he got. Even on my Beater, I didn’t fare much better, catching 2 inside waves that actually had shape for a short distance. Yet, the decision I made was conscious. All I wanted to do was get wet, and I got just that. A few tiny waves as a bonus? Sure. But to me it was an hour worth spending, and when I got home I still had time to do all my extra shit for the day.

            On this very morning I made the same dawn patrol but didn’t pull the trigger. What I want out of surfing wasn’t there for me today, for just the activity of getting wet had already been satisfied yesterday. This morning was even more gorgeous than yesterday: sunny, warm, offshore, inviting, uncrowded but with the same lackluster shape. Sure, there were plenty of guys out. I’m sure some got lucky and got decent rides, but the overall wave-lotto odds weren’t good to begin with.

There has to be a balance. If it’s crap, don’t force it, at least not two days in a row. You need it that bad, set yourself up for a day trip; hit the road and go where it’s firing. Or save yourself for when the dawn patrol actually works out. It will eventually. When it does, surf your fucking brains out. There are excuses not to surf when it’s crap, but none when it’s good in your backyard. That’s when you’ve got to be on it. Hold yourself to that. 

Catch Surf Beater Review

            Why was it so hard to find a legitimate review for one of these things online? For the most part, I either found videos or websites just restating the summary of what the Catch Surf Beater is made for, or just another repeat of specifications and dimensions. On Youtube, I only found video of either pros shredding on them or amateurs doing their best impressions of the pros. Regardless of now knowing for sure how these Beaters ride, I still couldn’t help but buy one anyway.

            What did I expect? I’m a sucker for Kalani Robb’s videos getting barreled on a Beater in shorepounding beach break. Other sponsored Catch Surf Pros also make the Beater look fun by doing airs and 360s on them. I became a little suspicious in how the ratio of good Beater performance videos vs bad ones are out there, and now I know the reason.

            During my first session out at my local beachbreak, I was hit with a nasty reality check. In waist to chest high consistent windswell, I was not Kalani-Robb like at all. If my weight was too far back, I instantly sunk my Beater. Too far forward, instant purl. Timing was an issue. I blew so many late takeoffs, even one with my mouth open, which caused me to swallow a Manhattan Beach Martini. Even then, my first session on this board was a long one, and even though I ate it terribly, it was the few waves that I did make that gave me just enough stoke to want to stick with it. In more detail, I got a punchy left where I was able to just pump and do a few floaters all the way to the inside. It’s like, you can’t just pop up and pump away to set yourself up like on a normal shortboard, but, if anything, the Beater will just kind of go where the wave wants it to. You, as the surfer/performer, must harness this energy and steer this thing in the best line possible to get the best ride that you can.

            Second session, I tried this thing without fins on, and you can call me a barney, but, fuckin’ A, the Beater was just too loose finless. I mean, I took it back out on a small ass day, local again, and the board was sliding all crazy like while popping up. Even with I did get up, the board just wanted to spin out. It was too hard. Reality check number 2—I need the fins.

            Third session is really what did it for me. At tiny ass Churches in San Clemente, over a cobblestone point for the first time, this board was absolutely fun in low tide, clean and peaky, thigh-high surf. Actually riding waves with shape opened up the Beater to a whole new realm of fun and stoke. I sat inside of the longboarders and was catching all the waves that they didn’t want, for sure the shortboarders didn’t give those waves so much as a glance, and yet there I was, going down the line, making sections with pumps and floaters. On my backhand going right, I was able to pump high and draw a highline all the way to the inside for long rides, even getting away with partial hang fives.

            The negatives so far about this board is that, at least for an intermediate surfer, it’s really hard to turn. When I say turn, I mean “turn” like how you would a standard shortboard. Forget about putting the Beater on rail on the bottom turn to set up for a major hack. Trust me, you will BURY the rail. Don’t even think about cutbacks. This piece of surf craft does not work that way. Since that session at Churches, I’ve taken this board out a few more times, and I’ve also realized that if the surf is big enough for your regular shortboard, then you shouldn’t be on the Beater because you’ll be shortchanging yourself. Why force the Beater to perform when your other boards are waiting and meant for that better surf? I read a lot of articles, people considering purchasing a Beater for travel in order to beat the airline fees. Even I considered this at one point, but in reality, if you’re traveling to a place with decent surf, you’ll be better off surfing a real surfboard versus a Beater. Perhaps if you’re traveling somewhere where the surf is small or crappy, it would be worth it, but that doesn’t even sound like a surf trip to begin with. Who travels for crappy waves?

            The positives about this board…it can turn a shitty and small day fun. Even upon taking this board out on bigger days, the rides that I got were so rewarding, even though I wasn’t getting any legit turns or snaps. At Churches, for instance, small waves with a little bit of shape are just absolute fun. While watching shortboarders trying to force good rides and make their boards over perform what the conditions were actually allowing, the Beater excelled by just getting down the line and doing fun floaters. Also, in small waves, since the Beater itself is small, it makes the wave feel bigger.

            Things to adjust to…First off, people will be giving you some awkward looks, especially if you have the model I have with the unicorn and rainbows. Some locals I know asked if I was riding my nephew’s board or something, and of course there were gay jokes. In the lineup, heads will turn to see “what the hell is that guy riding”. Back to turns, I’ve managed a few that I’d reclass in calling them “check snaps” because you can’t just do a full legit arc on the face. Again, this board doesn’t work like that. You’ll need to adjust your timing. If you’re too late, then you’re pretty much bodyboarding the wave. If you do make the late drop, the pumping mechanics on this board are different from a regular shortboard, so you’ll miss the section. You have to get into the wave early and by all means not late at all. Don’t expect this board to catch every single wave with ease. Remember, 54 inches is still not a lot of length to work with, so it won’t grab as many waves as a Costco foamie, but catching small waves are still doable with good paddling, positioning, and timing.

            So is it worth it? To me, absolutely, but with the clear realization that this is a novelty board that should be used in sub-stellar conditions. On a shitty morning, if I can already tell that I won’t so much as get a turn on my groveler, then I’m whipping out the Beater. It at least gives me that new option quiverwise. For the first time, I can pretty much paddle out even if the surf looks like shit and know I have the right board for it, which means I can be in the water more than before I made this investment. For a pic of my Beater, see my Instagram link.

2016 #3: Below the Radar

It’s official. I’ve fallen off the map. No Instagram, no Facebook, no social media. If you’ve had a birthday in the last eight months, chances are I missed it (from lack of Facebooking), and being the lame friend that I am, I apologize. If you’re not part of my small childhood circle of friends, if you don’t surf where I surf, if you’re not a coworker, or if you haven’t collaborated to kill some AYCE sushi with me, chances are I haven’t seen or talked to you.

                I’ve lost the drive to write about my sessions, and it’s taken me years to realize this, but nobody gives a shit about what my sessions at El Porto were like on so-and-so day with Kook the Noob McGillicutty dropping in on me and me getting pissed off, blah, blah, blah, we’ve all heard it before.

                Despite all this, I haven’t lost my passion for surfing. Even now after securing work as a Ramper at LAX and an Associate Editor, I’ve still been in love with surfing more than ever. I got my first custom-shaped board from Don Kadowaki a few months ago and have been surfing the shit out of it. I scored uncrowded surf at Oceanside and surfed uncrowded Trestles when that whale washed up at Lowers. I recently camped at San Onofre just this past weekend when a pumping swell rolled through, both times I had my battle buddy Klaude by my side.

                I lost my drive to write and instead gave myself up for the moment. I felt like taking time out to snap that picture, post it, hashtag it, or blog about it later was taking away from myself, and it’s been relieving to put it all down and just be one with the experience that I was undertaking, whether I was pulling out my board to rush it or standing on the beach staring at onshore slop. It’s helped me with establishing a better balance between work, my life, and my wife.

                Only recently have I gotten back on my apps and opened up this blog to provide content with a different approach. Life isn’t just surfing. It’s also everything else in between. And it doesn’t have to be all the time. Just a blurb will do.

2016 #2 (Maui, Oahu)

            I’ve been out of the loop for a long time, fallen to the wayside of not writing, but here I am, trying to get back into the swing. It’s not about writing about every session anymore, but more about writing for significance, and I’d be missing out if I didn’t at least document part of my honeymoon to Maui and Oahu.

            The last time I was home was in August of 2009, right before I went to Iraq. I told Bri before the trip, “Don’t be surprised when I constantly bump into people I know.” I remembered the old Lahaina, when I couldn’t walk down Front Street, let alone buy something at Longs Drugs without running into friends or family. I’ll have to say that it was a bit saddening to see how much times have changed. Where did everyone go? Moved interisland, Mainland, or just stay home with the keikis?

            So the trip turned out legitimately for just me and my wife, which was fine. As much as I wanted to rent some foamboards just for good fun, the weather didn’t quite cooperate. There was rain and a lot of wind. I showed my wife all of my old West Maui haunts, even my Grandpa’s pastures, not covered in overgrowth lying in ruin. Only old timers will know whose hands worked that land.

            I didn’t learn to surf in Maui back in my high school days, so I paid more attention to the surf. We cruised Honolua Bay, Windmills, and the smaller breaks coming off the Pali, entering Lahaina. The water was tantalizing with small longboard peaks, but without a rental spot around the corner, we just watched and justified that “it was too small.”

Small Honolua Bay

            My teenage years as a Wharf Rat on Front Street, I never even stopped to look at the surf at Lahaina Harbor, and I was most impressed when my wife and I walked over for a peek during our bar crawl. A small A-frame peak was working. Maybe five people out, local groms and tourists. The groms were so gangly and light that they were busting incomplete airs and milking each ride for distance. Even as we were leaving with the sun going down, the standard local pickup trucks were just arriving with boards in the back.

            If I was a local before, I definitely wasn’t one anymore. Suddenly, I could see myself living here again. How awesome would that be to live in Lahaina within walking distance to the harbor, to just grab a boards and walk on over, catch a few waves, and come back home?

Lahaina Harbor

            During that bar crawl, I got to enjoy the things that I used to scoff at when watching tourists. Looking up from the street, I’d hear all the noise coming from the second-story bars, and now I was the one looking down on the street, waiting for something familiar. A squad of high-school punks who would remind me of me and my crew from back in the day, but the closest thing I witnessed was a car cruising past with its music blasting.

            On Oahu, we attended my good friend Francis’ wedding, and he actually found the time to take us out for our first surfing experience in Hawaii at an isolated spot on the North Shore. It was a playful 2-4FT day with scattered peaks over reef. Having to use different equipment, I surfed like shit, but I still had fun. A few local longboarders were stoked to hear about my first time paddling out in Hawaii.

Francis, the man the myth...

            The day after the wedding, Francis took everyone out to the legendary Makaha, where we paddled out in big, unruly surf. I caught two waves that fizzled out on the shoulder. The locals knew better to sit on the inside and catch those that connected. Bri got one, too. Now we can actually say that we surfed that spot, us tourists from El Segundo.

Makaha

            I could easily turn this trip into a novel, but I’m just going to focus on the important things. One, I realized how much I’ve missed Maui. I missed the slowness of the westside, and if I was better positioned in life, I would even think about moving back. Second, I’m grateful for the friends I’ve made in Hawaii, who have shown that my wife and I are always welcomed back. Aloha.

2016 #1

            I’ve been out of the groove for a while. Mostly because of looking for jobs after my summer trip to Indo, working odd jobs, finally getting hired for a major airline company, and also getting a part time job as an editor for a book publishing company. The days of fudging off at Churches for “staycations” have come to a halt but hopefully not permanently. In June, I’ll be able to swap shifts and have more flexibility in my time.

            I think I took a lot of things for granted. On the other side of that coin, I can also say that I was enjoying life and having fun flying by the seat of my pants, and even though I have two part time jobs, three if you count the military, I still kind of am flying by the seat of my pants. But I have to be wiser in how I do so. I can’t just take off down south for waves if I work that day. And if I’m backed up in my editing work, then chances are I’ll be surfing close to home or maybe won’t surf at all if the waves don’t look worthy.

            Being a husband has also changed things a little. I’m a selfish bastard, but I have to tone down on that as well. “Happy wife, happy life,” as my best friend said. “And then they still aren’t happy.” That last one was from my friend Jonathan.

            I still surf. I surfed local this morning at 42^nd St. with my other surf mentor Gary. Even though the cams showed the waves looking awfully swampy with a rising tide, three-feet max, I still held my commitment and went for it.

            Yeah, I got snaked by Tony, the guy who got beaten up in the famous Porto parking lot fight video. Yeah, the waves were so soft that I couldn’t get a turn in. But I was there with a friend. My waves were pumpy before turning soft serve, but I was there period. I’d compare a morning session to jumping in a pool on a cold day, except you’re doing it in the ocean. That’s how the first duck dive feels to me. Why would anyone want to do such a thing? Because regardless of all the changes in my life, in the water is still the best place to start my day.