CREW: RANDY
FLAKES OF THE DAY: None
TIME: 0700 -0900, 2 hrs.
WIND: ? Can’t remember
WATER: Shoulder to head high at off peaks, a little bigger in front of 45th . Walled, but there were some waves with fast, rideable, shoulders if you were lucky enough to be in the right spot. Long waits in between good waves.
My brother wanted to check out Hammers again to see if it was going off. We reached the Grand parking lot a little before 0630 and bought a pass. I ended up taking out the 6’1 DMS that he gave me a while back. On the walk to the break we could tell that Hammers wasn’t really doing it. The south side of the jetty wasn’t happening either. There was a little drop in swell size, and the tide was going from mid to high.
We ended up walking to the north side of the tanks. We saw a good right come through, and we marked our peak. Most of the sets were walled at about head high, but every once in a while a defined peak would jack up from the sand bar. It was cold. We initially had a long wait and went our own ways to find a peak. I caught a couple closeouts. We were already into our first hour. Randy made the call to head closer to the stacks where we bumped into Ray. It wasn’t a gnarly day compared to the last week of surf, so I felt pretty confident on the 6’1. As we were paddling over, a little peak raised from the ocean. I was in the perfect position for a right. My paddling arms felt strong, and I was able to drop in. I was quite off balance, but I managed to go down the line and stay on the board. It was too fast for a rail grab, but I had my right arm trailing behind me and my hand in the wave. It was a great feeling. I caught about three more rights, and my last wave was a left. Randy and I were a little far apart, so I didn’t get to see what he was doing close up.
I saw my brother at the line up, then reality hit me. I may not see him again for at least a good two years, and he leaves in a matter of days. That would be one of the last times that I’d get to pull a session with him for a while. I’m happy that I got to spend as much time with him as I could since I’ve been home. Pretty soon Team Ramelb will be no longer, not until we meet again. By then who knows how things will be? Especially my surfing, I hope to improve by then. Another option, I may have to go to Indo to reunite much sooner. Thanks, Bro, for all the tips, and time you invested in hanging with me. I’m gonna miss you when you leave.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
NEGATIVE ENERGY: WED 1.05.2011 EVE
NEGATIVE ENERGY: WED 1.05.2011 EVE
CREW: RANDY
TIME: 1330 -1500, 1.5 hrs..
WIND: Offshore, slightly side shore
WATER: Going mid to low tide, cold but sunny, shallow on the inside, crowded with rippers, head high to overhead, walled with some corners to pick out, barreling if you were good enough for them.
Randy came over at about noon. I had to break the news to him about what happened to the JSI. I saw the look of disappointment on his face. I explained what happened. He said, “The rule of thumb is to NEVER ditch your board because it could come back and hit you, and it could hit the guy behind you. You can still duckdive eight to ten foot waves.” Fuck, I thought to myself. I felt like that wave was too big for me. I was mad at myself, and I felt like shit. If there has ever been anyone that had a huge influence on me, it’s my big brother, and I hate to ever let him down. Lesson learned. He said that the damage was done in the worst spot because my heel will be on that area, and that the board won’t last long. I immediately got on the horn and asked Rick for a late birthday present to do some fiberglass augmentation. He told me to let it dry out and bring it by. I’m so lucky to have those guys around.
My brother missed out on the morning sesh, so it wasn’t long before we were out again. On the way to Porto we took a look at Hammers. We saw a perfect, barreling, left come rolling through. He said, “Right there, I want to surf that wave!” We went to the Grand lot and parked at the meters. I forgot that the meters there are only good for an hour and a half. There were already a lot of surfers there; some were struggling with the parking pass machines. I sent a courtesy text to Shan, then we walked to Hammers and watched the waves. There were a lot of people at the point, and we saw guys getting barreled but not making it out. Despite the crowd, it looked like we would have a chance if we sat on the shoulder; the smaller waves actually had better shape, but there were still a lot of walls. I didn’t feel good about being on the sand again with the Merrick. That board just felt so huge, especially since I’ve been testing out the JSI lately. The water was unexpectedly shallow, which made the paddle out fairly short. Guys were perched at the peak and actually making the barrels. The cool thing about the peak was that it was still producing long rides, even without the set. Randy got some rides, but he didn’t feel like competing with the crowd at the peak, so he sat a little north of it. There was an old timer with long gray hair getting some good barrel rides. I had the best show in the house. Everyone let that guy through and gave him respect. He was with a younger guy that was getting barreled, too. They had a water cameraman in the mix with them. There were people on the shore watching alongside with the lifeguards. Me … I wasn’t catching shit. I was so far from the peak that I was close to a right hand peak. There were some waves that I went for that were too walled; the low tide was to blame. I went for my first wave, a right, and I got pitched over before I could even attempt a pop up. I’m not sure how many people saw that. Next, I paddled for what looked like a workable left shoulder, and I got pounded again. I got really passive at that point. I still wasn’t over the disappointment of what happened in the morning. I felt like I was on the wrong board for those conditions; but in reality, I was the wrong surfer for those conditions. Only good surfers were out there. They were all competing at that peak. My brother told me that some guys were arguing because someone got dropped in on.
I finally caught a left. The waves were deceiving. Even though I was sitting at the shoulder, they would jack up and get bigger as I paddled for them. I just remember dropping in, being grateful for sticking the drop, looking up at the crashing lip, then straightening out to avoid oblivion. After that wave I wiped out one more time. A rogue wave came. Every surfer was paddling to the outside. That one younger guy that was being filmed was the only guy to go for that wave. What ability, I thought. It was a huge wall, a straight closeout, and he still paddled into it just to get a shot of him in the barrel. He emerged after the explosion like it was nothing. Amazing.
I was over it, and so was my brother. After an hour and a half we left. I just wasn’t feeling it. I was already defeated before I paddled out there. The conditions didn’t seem right, except at the peak which was too crowded. Negative feelings ran through me. I felt like I was outclassed, I didn’t belong out there, I was a coward for not going for those waves, I sat on the outside like a bitch, and I wasn’t good enough to get those waves. I felt like a pure Barney, like I regressed back to day one of fucking surfing. I was so ashamed that I didn’t paddle in where the lifeguard tower was. I tucked my tail and paddled further north (away from everyone) before I went back to the shore.
I’m still upset with myself now. Randy said I could take the 6’2 hand me down that he gave me tomorrow if I don’t like the Merrick. I hope I can redeem myself tomorrow, at least a little. Oh, and I talked to Shan. He said he got a five second tube ride at the jetty, and that he was there at 1500. He showed up just as we left. Oh well. Next time.
CREW: RANDY
TIME: 1330 -1500, 1.5 hrs..
WIND: Offshore, slightly side shore
WATER: Going mid to low tide, cold but sunny, shallow on the inside, crowded with rippers, head high to overhead, walled with some corners to pick out, barreling if you were good enough for them.
Randy came over at about noon. I had to break the news to him about what happened to the JSI. I saw the look of disappointment on his face. I explained what happened. He said, “The rule of thumb is to NEVER ditch your board because it could come back and hit you, and it could hit the guy behind you. You can still duckdive eight to ten foot waves.” Fuck, I thought to myself. I felt like that wave was too big for me. I was mad at myself, and I felt like shit. If there has ever been anyone that had a huge influence on me, it’s my big brother, and I hate to ever let him down. Lesson learned. He said that the damage was done in the worst spot because my heel will be on that area, and that the board won’t last long. I immediately got on the horn and asked Rick for a late birthday present to do some fiberglass augmentation. He told me to let it dry out and bring it by. I’m so lucky to have those guys around.
My brother missed out on the morning sesh, so it wasn’t long before we were out again. On the way to Porto we took a look at Hammers. We saw a perfect, barreling, left come rolling through. He said, “Right there, I want to surf that wave!” We went to the Grand lot and parked at the meters. I forgot that the meters there are only good for an hour and a half. There were already a lot of surfers there; some were struggling with the parking pass machines. I sent a courtesy text to Shan, then we walked to Hammers and watched the waves. There were a lot of people at the point, and we saw guys getting barreled but not making it out. Despite the crowd, it looked like we would have a chance if we sat on the shoulder; the smaller waves actually had better shape, but there were still a lot of walls. I didn’t feel good about being on the sand again with the Merrick. That board just felt so huge, especially since I’ve been testing out the JSI lately. The water was unexpectedly shallow, which made the paddle out fairly short. Guys were perched at the peak and actually making the barrels. The cool thing about the peak was that it was still producing long rides, even without the set. Randy got some rides, but he didn’t feel like competing with the crowd at the peak, so he sat a little north of it. There was an old timer with long gray hair getting some good barrel rides. I had the best show in the house. Everyone let that guy through and gave him respect. He was with a younger guy that was getting barreled, too. They had a water cameraman in the mix with them. There were people on the shore watching alongside with the lifeguards. Me … I wasn’t catching shit. I was so far from the peak that I was close to a right hand peak. There were some waves that I went for that were too walled; the low tide was to blame. I went for my first wave, a right, and I got pitched over before I could even attempt a pop up. I’m not sure how many people saw that. Next, I paddled for what looked like a workable left shoulder, and I got pounded again. I got really passive at that point. I still wasn’t over the disappointment of what happened in the morning. I felt like I was on the wrong board for those conditions; but in reality, I was the wrong surfer for those conditions. Only good surfers were out there. They were all competing at that peak. My brother told me that some guys were arguing because someone got dropped in on.
I finally caught a left. The waves were deceiving. Even though I was sitting at the shoulder, they would jack up and get bigger as I paddled for them. I just remember dropping in, being grateful for sticking the drop, looking up at the crashing lip, then straightening out to avoid oblivion. After that wave I wiped out one more time. A rogue wave came. Every surfer was paddling to the outside. That one younger guy that was being filmed was the only guy to go for that wave. What ability, I thought. It was a huge wall, a straight closeout, and he still paddled into it just to get a shot of him in the barrel. He emerged after the explosion like it was nothing. Amazing.
I was over it, and so was my brother. After an hour and a half we left. I just wasn’t feeling it. I was already defeated before I paddled out there. The conditions didn’t seem right, except at the peak which was too crowded. Negative feelings ran through me. I felt like I was outclassed, I didn’t belong out there, I was a coward for not going for those waves, I sat on the outside like a bitch, and I wasn’t good enough to get those waves. I felt like a pure Barney, like I regressed back to day one of fucking surfing. I was so ashamed that I didn’t paddle in where the lifeguard tower was. I tucked my tail and paddled further north (away from everyone) before I went back to the shore.
I’m still upset with myself now. Randy said I could take the 6’2 hand me down that he gave me tomorrow if I don’t like the Merrick. I hope I can redeem myself tomorrow, at least a little. Oh, and I talked to Shan. He said he got a five second tube ride at the jetty, and that he was there at 1500. He showed up just as we left. Oh well. Next time.
EL PORTO VERSUS MY JSI BOARD: WED 1.05.2011 MORN
CREW: J
TIME: 0645- 0700, 1.25 hrs..
WIND: Offshore
WATER: Going mid to high tide, freezing cold water, long ass paddle out, seriously crowded, head high to overhead, walled with some corners to pick out, barreling if you were good enough for them.
I actually didn’t know what to expect when I woke up this morning. I just knew that Porto has been pumping lately, and that I expected there to be some kind of surf. I had no idea. …
Shan hit me up the night before and said he would be there in the morning. Of course, everyone I know has a ninety percent flake rate, which meant Shan wasn’t going to show up, and as predicted, he didn’t. I don’t expect much from anyone any more. J was already parked when I showed up. He handed me a New Year’s gift: Taylor Steele’s Campaign 2. I told him that my birthday was on the twenty-ninth, so it would count as a birthday gift. His two friends, Taylor and Virginia, were there, too. I got the quick introduction, but they won’t remember me.
It was still dark when we got to the shore, but there was enough light to start paddling out. They went ahead of me, but I watched the water for a little bit. As soon as I saw the lull I ran into the water and paddled furiously. Even though the inside wasn’t raging, the white wash had some power behind it. I ducked dive a couple waves and got pushed back a little. The set still wasn’t there, so I kept paddling to beat it. It was actually a long paddle to get to the line. I had just caught up with J by the time I reached it, and I beat another guy that paddled out with me.
I tried to get a feel for what the water was doing, but I didn’t do a good job at that. A right jacked up in the distance, and I turned around to paddle for it. When I realized I was too late, I tried to turn around … I didn’t make it. The wave still sucked me down into its impact zone. It wasn’t a good way to start the session: a gnarly wipeout on a wave that I tried to get out of and didn’t commit to. When I got back to the line there were already swarms of people paddling out. I watched J get a couple waves, and I still didn’t have shit. I watched 42nd go off. There were barreling lefts coming through. Everyone in the line reacted to them by gasping, making noise, and cheering the surfers on. One guy yelled, “They just need to pull up in the face to get in the barrel!” He said that because a lot of guys stuck the landing, but the hollow barrel went unridden. Also, there were guys getting chomped on by the closing barrels.
The current was going south, and everyone kept paddling north to stay at 45th. I finally had enough and paddled more north to the thinner crowd. I ended up by Taylor when a right finally came my way. He was right in front of me as I paddled for it. I barely had the inside position, but he backed off and let me have it. I found myself grabbing my rail and making a difficult drop. I pointed my nose down the face of the wave. When I looked up I saw a guy bobbing in the water with his board floating next to him; I was on a direct course to joust him. We both saw each other, and I had to ditch my board to avoid the worst. I was underwater for a while, but I remained calm and climbed my leash to the surface. Initially, I was pissed off. He immediately said, “I’m sorry, Man, for being in your way.” I was going to paddle away pissed off and not even acknowledge him, then I thought about all the times that I’ve been in his situation.
I said, “It’s alright,” and I went back to the line. I sat there in the lull, upset, grasping my board, and looking at its wax job. He paddled past me and apologized again. Unfortunately, that was my only potential wave of the day.
I tested the inside a little and scratched out on a wave. When I looked out at the ocean I saw a walled rogue jacking up. I said, “Oh shit!” and paddled as hard as I could to the outside. It made no difference. A lot of people were in the same predicament as I. The wave was overhead, and I lied on my board as I watched the lip about to come crashing down on me. It’s no secret that I have the shittiest duckdive in El Segundo, and I’ve done my best to work on it. Lately, I’ve made some major improvements, but I felt that there was no way that I could’ve duckdived this wave. First, it was big. Second, I was right at the impact zone. Third, I’ve had bad experiences of holding onto boards during an underwater wipeout. If the wave is too big, I’ll usually ditch my board. I went through the washing machine as that wave went through. I resurfaced, grabbed my board, and made it to the line. I noticed that my leash didn’t have much slack on it; I thought it was caught on the fins. When I followed the leash, I found that it cut into the left side of my rail, all the way to the traction pad. The traction pad actually stopped the leash from cutting in deeper. The traction pad actually bent from the force of the leash. It was a sad site. My leash was buried in there tight, and it took some strength to get it out. That was the end of my session. I paddled further north to get away from the peak and the crowd. I ran into Manny and gave him a wave. He was with his crew. I paddled to shore and took a closer look. I lost a lot of foam; it was bad. I fucked up my new fucking board that my brother gave me as an early birthday gift. That board has so much sentimental value, and in twelve days I already damaged it twice. As I changed I looked out and saw the conditions getting better with nice reformed sections happening on the inside. I watched other guys get nice carves on open faces. I was mad and jealous. My only wave of the day was cut short by a guy that was in my way, and I fucked up the best board I’ve ever had. That negative energy would follow me throughout the day. This has been the worst streak of bad luck that I’ve ever had with a board. However, life could be worse. There are people out there that don’t even have food to eat, and here I am bitching about a busted board. Life is good, but I’m still bummed.
TIME: 0645- 0700, 1.25 hrs..
WIND: Offshore
WATER: Going mid to high tide, freezing cold water, long ass paddle out, seriously crowded, head high to overhead, walled with some corners to pick out, barreling if you were good enough for them.
I actually didn’t know what to expect when I woke up this morning. I just knew that Porto has been pumping lately, and that I expected there to be some kind of surf. I had no idea. …
Shan hit me up the night before and said he would be there in the morning. Of course, everyone I know has a ninety percent flake rate, which meant Shan wasn’t going to show up, and as predicted, he didn’t. I don’t expect much from anyone any more. J was already parked when I showed up. He handed me a New Year’s gift: Taylor Steele’s Campaign 2. I told him that my birthday was on the twenty-ninth, so it would count as a birthday gift. His two friends, Taylor and Virginia, were there, too. I got the quick introduction, but they won’t remember me.
It was still dark when we got to the shore, but there was enough light to start paddling out. They went ahead of me, but I watched the water for a little bit. As soon as I saw the lull I ran into the water and paddled furiously. Even though the inside wasn’t raging, the white wash had some power behind it. I ducked dive a couple waves and got pushed back a little. The set still wasn’t there, so I kept paddling to beat it. It was actually a long paddle to get to the line. I had just caught up with J by the time I reached it, and I beat another guy that paddled out with me.
I tried to get a feel for what the water was doing, but I didn’t do a good job at that. A right jacked up in the distance, and I turned around to paddle for it. When I realized I was too late, I tried to turn around … I didn’t make it. The wave still sucked me down into its impact zone. It wasn’t a good way to start the session: a gnarly wipeout on a wave that I tried to get out of and didn’t commit to. When I got back to the line there were already swarms of people paddling out. I watched J get a couple waves, and I still didn’t have shit. I watched 42nd go off. There were barreling lefts coming through. Everyone in the line reacted to them by gasping, making noise, and cheering the surfers on. One guy yelled, “They just need to pull up in the face to get in the barrel!” He said that because a lot of guys stuck the landing, but the hollow barrel went unridden. Also, there were guys getting chomped on by the closing barrels.
The current was going south, and everyone kept paddling north to stay at 45th. I finally had enough and paddled more north to the thinner crowd. I ended up by Taylor when a right finally came my way. He was right in front of me as I paddled for it. I barely had the inside position, but he backed off and let me have it. I found myself grabbing my rail and making a difficult drop. I pointed my nose down the face of the wave. When I looked up I saw a guy bobbing in the water with his board floating next to him; I was on a direct course to joust him. We both saw each other, and I had to ditch my board to avoid the worst. I was underwater for a while, but I remained calm and climbed my leash to the surface. Initially, I was pissed off. He immediately said, “I’m sorry, Man, for being in your way.” I was going to paddle away pissed off and not even acknowledge him, then I thought about all the times that I’ve been in his situation.
I said, “It’s alright,” and I went back to the line. I sat there in the lull, upset, grasping my board, and looking at its wax job. He paddled past me and apologized again. Unfortunately, that was my only potential wave of the day.
I tested the inside a little and scratched out on a wave. When I looked out at the ocean I saw a walled rogue jacking up. I said, “Oh shit!” and paddled as hard as I could to the outside. It made no difference. A lot of people were in the same predicament as I. The wave was overhead, and I lied on my board as I watched the lip about to come crashing down on me. It’s no secret that I have the shittiest duckdive in El Segundo, and I’ve done my best to work on it. Lately, I’ve made some major improvements, but I felt that there was no way that I could’ve duckdived this wave. First, it was big. Second, I was right at the impact zone. Third, I’ve had bad experiences of holding onto boards during an underwater wipeout. If the wave is too big, I’ll usually ditch my board. I went through the washing machine as that wave went through. I resurfaced, grabbed my board, and made it to the line. I noticed that my leash didn’t have much slack on it; I thought it was caught on the fins. When I followed the leash, I found that it cut into the left side of my rail, all the way to the traction pad. The traction pad actually stopped the leash from cutting in deeper. The traction pad actually bent from the force of the leash. It was a sad site. My leash was buried in there tight, and it took some strength to get it out. That was the end of my session. I paddled further north to get away from the peak and the crowd. I ran into Manny and gave him a wave. He was with his crew. I paddled to shore and took a closer look. I lost a lot of foam; it was bad. I fucked up my new fucking board that my brother gave me as an early birthday gift. That board has so much sentimental value, and in twelve days I already damaged it twice. As I changed I looked out and saw the conditions getting better with nice reformed sections happening on the inside. I watched other guys get nice carves on open faces. I was mad and jealous. My only wave of the day was cut short by a guy that was in my way, and I fucked up the best board I’ve ever had. That negative energy would follow me throughout the day. This has been the worst streak of bad luck that I’ve ever had with a board. However, life could be worse. There are people out there that don’t even have food to eat, and here I am bitching about a busted board. Life is good, but I’m still bummed.
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