Crew: Francis & Shan
Time: 0800-1100, 3 hrs
Conditions: 4 ft, decent shape mixed with closeouts, semi-consistent, overcast, and some waves were hollow.
On Monday morning I got suited up and head towards the beach. It was flat. Monday was a lay day, and Tuesday I had school. On Wednesday I manage to wake up at 0630. I’ve barely had four hours of sleep. I don’t sleep much, and now the shit’s catching up to me. Especially since I’ve been working on a fucking presentation the whole weekend; I am drained mentally and physically from lack of rest while consistently surfing. Also, I’m still battling my cold.
It’s overcast with a hint of offshore wind. I can’t tell what the water’s doing until I drive down 45th. El Porto is jam packed all the way up to the exit. I see guys rushing the water, scattered peaks everywhere, and a forgiving tide which is a sharp contrast to last week. I thought about surfing here, but it’s packed, and if it’s good I’m not paying for parking. I text Francis to give him the report.
I score a free spot by the lifeguard station. It’s almost too good to be true. The local guys are on it, and there are scattered peaks, good shape, and long rides. I still take my time warming up and then paddle straight out. It’s not as crowded as the weekend, but the main mass of surfers are in front of the tower. I sit towards the outside but the consistency is slower. I keep eyeing an unridden left that’s breaking further south until I give-in and make my way there. It doesn’t take long before I get a right, but I fall on my bottom turn. One of the bigger waves comes, and it’s another right. I paddle into it, it stands up, and I have a sense that it’s going hollow behind me. It throws me off, and I wonder if I should go for turns or try to get barreled. By the time I make up my mind the section closes out.
Francis arrives a little later and spots me. He makes the waves look easy, but I can’t get my turns down this. I finally get a really good left. It’s fast, but I’m on the shoulder, so I have a chance to stay on the face. On my way back up to transition into my top turn, the wave stands up; it’s for sure going hollow. I’m determined to stay on my line, so I try to turn off the lip, but since it throws-out I get pitched. I VENT my frustration to Francis when I get back. That was a “barrel wave,” but I didn’t recognize it early enough. I should have just pulled in, hunkered down, and went straight.
I spend the rest of the session waiting for that same wave, but it doesn’t come. I spot Shan in front of 26th into the second hour. Francis cracks two turns off the lip on a right, releasing some spray each time. To the south we see a guy get shacked before he gets pinched. Everyone around us lets out a unanimous, “Whoaaaaa!”
On every paddle back to the lineup I feel winded. I don’t know if school, stress, or lack of sleep is all catching up to me, but I tell the guys that I’m done for the day and catch one in. Today it wasn’t the waves it was me. I feel like my surfing is plateauing, or maybe I just need some rest and this semester to end.
