SHOWOUT, SAT 22SEPT2012 MOR

Crew: Bri, KK, CC, Khang, Tom, Dais

Time: 0900-1045

Conditions: 2-3 FT, sunny, glassy, inconsistent.

Another Ode to Fran-Sauce:  

     I remember the good old days when I had nothing but time to surf, write, and play Modern Warfare 3 on PS3. I’ll never forget the weekday morning sessions. Francis and I pulled so many of those, when we’d either stay local or go as far south as Blacks to get some waves. If we stayed local or in the HB area, we’d usually top off with a Bob’s Hawaiian breakfast. There’s nothing like pulling into Bob’s on a Tuesday morning, like at 0945 before the day goes full swing. We’ve walked in there when there were only Gardena Public Works employees and old Japanese couples eating breakfast. We’d be ravenous with hunger, killing off Da Big Hawaiian plate, one for each of us. Mmmmmmm, Vienna Sausage, Spam, rice, eggs, macaroni salad, pancakes with coconut syrup. Then we’d go back to the house, chill with Smokey and blast fools on PS3. Well, everything comes to an end, and in this case, hopefully it’s only a “pause.” Now with Francis in Oahu and with my masters program in full swing, I get to see my surf family only on the weekends. So on Saturdays and Sundays, I stay local.

     If you’ve never met Francis, you’ve never been privileged with being around his Zen-like, in the moment, calm, and genuine demeanor/personality. The guy’s like a Philosopher, the Brown Jesus in surfer form. That being said, from now on we’ll refer to his method of living and thinking as “FRANSAUCEAN.”

#

     Dawn patrol? I don’t think so. Briana and I learn that staycations take a lot out of us, and waking up early on Saturday mornings is turning out to be a tall order.

     I know KK’s surfing local because I asked him last night. I bring Cheryl’s DK Fish in case she comes. As much as I’d like to hang on to this awesome piece of surfcraft, it doesn’t belong to me, and holding on to it brings the risk of damaging it, which I do not want to be liable for.

     There’s no free parking at 26^th, so Bri and I have no choice but to do the meters, but the only problem is that I barely have any fucking change. Again, we run into Klaude as he’s on his way out. He says that the rest of the crew is out there. I bum five more quarters from him and make the commitment to see him tomorrow.

     The waves don’t look impressive. The scene of surfers sitting close to the inside is becoming typical. I’m chancing it with the boardshorts today with no rashguard. From the sand I already see that the water’s DRC heavy: Dais, Khang, Tom, and CC. Dais is the first one to spot me. We wave.

     I must be a freak because everyone else is in a wetsuit. Also, the sight of me paddling out on a fish is still new. It feels good to see everyone together, despite the surf conditions. I introduce Bri to Tom, since Bri’s now met everyone except for Cheryl. “How’s the surf?” I ask Tom.

     “Ohhh, it’s okay, but . . . it looks like it’s getting better with the tide coming up. Shit, here I am thinking, ‘wake up early, get here at first light,’ but now I’m like, ‘I should just sleep in, get here later!’”

     I laugh. I tell everyone how I’ve been experimenting with fishes lately and how the DK really pulled through for me at San Onofre. Just then, a little left-hand bump rolls through. Feeding off the energy of seeing my comrades, I put a little extra mustard on my paddle and kick. I catch the sub three-foot wave, which is a little walled. But it has a workable little end section. I bottom turn and rebound off the lip as it closes. My friends see this. It feels good, not just for validation, but I feel like we tend to surf a little harder when we’re surfing together, each person raising the bar for the other, making us froth more and more for the next one. I try to duplicate the ride, but it’s hard to get another nugget. My rides are mostly closeouts now, but everyone else gets some good rides. Tom in particular is working with the closeouts, banging turns out before his rides end.

     Since Bri and I are on the second shift, everyone else leaves one-by-one until it’s just Bri and me. I struggle to get another good ride, but I’m graced by a right-hand bump. I paddle into it, and it actually has some shape. It’s reminiscent of my first right at San Onofre yesterday, but this one’s standing up a little bit more. My bottom turn is slow and wide, but I climb the face and hit the lip. The downturn is a little critical because I feel like I’m gonna purl, but I manage to keep the nose out the water. I look back on the sand. Dais gives me a thumbs-up before he leaves.

#

     Briana’s getting used to 26^th. There’s a crowd here, but it breaks different from San O. Since it’s small beach break, the paddle out is shorter, and (for a longboard) there are enough waves for her to catch.

     The window of good surf that Tom called only lasts a little while. The tide rises and makes the surf more inconsistent. Our parking meter’s almost up, so we head back in. Just like last weekend, the calm wind and sunny conditions remain even as we’re leaving.

New Post Surf Grinds:

     I ask Bri what she’s in the mood to eat for breakfast. I suggest The Blue Butterfly, but she doesn’t want that. Deep inside, I’m in the mood for something greasier myself. We discuss the possibility of pancakes at Metro Café. “But it’s almost eleven,” I say, “there’s probably gonna be a nasty line.” We both know that only one resolution is possible. . . . BOB’S HAWAIIAN!

     On the drive to Gardena, my mouth waters at the thought of some rice, eggs, and Spam with Vienna Sausage. Maybe a little soyu on top of that with some Tobasco. You gotta get the mixture right: a little bit of Spam followed by a spoonful of rice, thew three times, then scoop up some mac salad. Mmmmmm-Mmmmm-MMMMMM! I NEED RICE! We pull into the parking lot, stoked to see that there are empty spots, and then we see the sign on the window:

We’ve Moved Location.

     My heart’s broken; my food fantasy is crushed. I don’t have time to look up the address and start a monkey hunt. I’ve heard that Gardena Bowl has good local food too, so we check it out.

     It’s smaller than Bob’s, cramped with a lot of people . . . but this has to be a good sign that something’s good here. We sit next to some elderly Japanese peeps and look at the menu. I can’t find anything resembling Da Big Hawaiian, so I order:

Hawaiian Royal: Portuguese sausage,

charsu, green onions & eggs

over a bed of rice with teriyaki

sauce.

     I’m so hungry that I’m about to have a man bitch-fit. Surprisingly, this dish is enough to satisfy me. I could eat more, but I’m content. I think it costs seven bucks and some change. Afterwards, Briana and I both take monster shits.

#

     So today’s local session was fun. It was great to see everyone in the water, and I got a couple good waves. I’m hoping tomorrow will be fun too. Now only one question remains. . . . WHERE THE FUCK IS THE NEW BOB'S HAWAIIAN RESTAURANT?

ALZHEIMER SESSIONS (double sesh), FRI 21SEPT2012 EVE

Loc: Churches & Old Mans

Crew: Bri

Conditions: 2-3 FT, sunny, glassy, a perfect evening.

Dream Conditions:

     “This is rare,” I tell Briana. “It’s rare to surf an evening session without any wind.” The conditions are even glassier than the morning. That pool water effect is happening, when the water’s so still that the light refracts back onto your face like you’re at an indoor pool. The weather the whole day’s been great. Even when we ate and perched at our staycation spot, we didn’t need to be wary about the wind blowing our shit away. Unfortunately, this is the part where my memory fleets me. It’s been two weeks since this session took place, and all I can remember is the morning session. I just looked at my texts from September 21^st, and I can only find references to the morning session. But . . . this is what I can remember.

     Churches has been working all day, even through the high tide during lunch. Now, the size has come down just a little bit as well as its consistency. Briana wants to surf Old Mans, but I convince her to surf at Churches. We sit on the outside towards the south end then work our way towards the top of the wave a little. Middle looks crumbly and so does North Churches. It’s not packed, but there are enough people in the water where it’s a little competitive.

     After a solid hour, I see that Briana’s having a hard time catching waves, not from her ability but from the crowd. I motion for her to catch one in. We head back to the wagon, drink some water, and head to Old Mans.

#

     It’s a hair smaller here, but the crowd’s way mellower. Our spot is the north end of San Onofre, right at the parking lot entrance. From here, Briana gets her fair share of waves. After one of my rides, I find myself standing on the cobblestones towards the inside, walking my way back towards deeper water. Just then, I feel something bite the middle toe on my left foot. “FUCKIN’ BITCH!” I yell. I can’t help it, it’s my auto response. Even though it’s shallow, I hop on my board and paddle away as fast as I can. This is the first time this has happened to me. It’s definitely an unwelcomed feeling. In the lineup, I feel for my toe, checking the skin to see if it’s broken. I can’t tell. I tell Briana about it which freaks her out too. For the remainder of the session, we both avoid touching the bottom as much as possible. It reminds me of Bali after my sea urchin incident. After that, I didn’t push off of the bottom for the rest of the trip, and that’s when I also learned my brother’s “star fish” technique for falling.

     This is all I have for this session. I don’t remember any significant waves. We took our time packing in the dark, and I can’t even remember where we had dinner that night. But, my toe was cut where that mystery critter bit me. I can’t be falling behind on my surf blogs like this. . . . Damn Master’s Program.

FISH POTENTIAL, FRI 21SEPT2012 MOR

My dog Smokey murdered this critter. Discovered this while pre-packing for the trip

Loc: Old Mans

Crew: Bri

Conditions: 2-3 ft+, sunny, glassy, high tide.

Pre Blog:

It’s now official that Fridays are no longer just a normal Fridays but STAYCATION FRIDAYS. After a grueling week of school (discounting Friday), Friday is the day to unwind, strictly a day for both surf and quality time with Briana. The last time we staycationed it, we arrived late and got shitty parking. But . . . not today. . . .

#

     Ideally, we should be leaving at 0545, but we leave my drive way a little before 0700. The first stop is Vons. The plan is to go to San Onofre, find good parking and stay for the WHOLE DAY. Therefore, the only time we’ll move the car is when we leave. That being said, we need victuals to hold us down. It sounds like a tedious task, especially when road trip syndrome is suspect. Suddenly one feels that he needs this . . . and that . . . and the Oreos, ice, beer, bananas, crackers, etc. Instead, Briana buys the biggest, fucking pre-made deli sandwich they have which is like a foot and a half long and seven inches wide. She also grabs a gallon of water and . . . Double Stuff Oreos.

#

     Before school started, I used to pride myself in being one of the first guys at the beach, getting good parking. Since then, dawn patrolling has been a bit difficult with school. All I know right now is that we’re running late. Driving on the 405 South, the sun is rising to the east. We should be on the shore experiencing this, not in my car with the windows rolled up, smelling my farts.

The Spot:

     To beat the crowds, I think a mid week session would be better, say a Tuesday or a Wednesday. On Friday, I think people are a little frothier. It’s the end of the week. Most students don’t have classes on Friday. For high schoolers and workers alike, Friday would be the day to show up a little late. Despite these factors, Brianna and I still get prime parking under a big shady tree, the perfect site for a staycation. 

Don K. Fish Pt. II:

     I pull out Cheryl’s Fish. I’m thinking, today’s the day. I gotta see what this sucker can do. Even though there’s already a generous amount of wax on it, I put on a little more. Actually now that I think of it, there is so much goddam wax on that board. If Cheryl stripped it off it would bring its weight down a couple pounds.

      

     Briana’s stoked to surf Old Mans. It’s her favorite spot. If I surfed here as a beginner, it would’ve been my favorite spot too. I think learning to surf at Porto has its advantages. I remember surfing Trestles for the first time, the waves were so slopey that I could barely get into them. Well, right now Briana has the luxury of catching soft, forgiving, gentle waves. . . . She’s spoiled.

     The tide’s on its way up; the window for good surf is closing upon us, so we gotta get out while we can. The sun’s out, and the wind is faint. We paddle to the northern tip of the first break at Old Mans. We’re not where the main pack is, but some waves swing wide to where we’re sitting.

#

     It’s a little hard. . . . I can’t believe I expected this fish to catch waves like the Zippy. It doesn’t. The Zippy is just way too meaty to even compare. As far as tiny waves on the DK, I scratch and kick but get left behind. I’m doubtful that my board selection is right today. And then out of nowhere, bumps pop up on the horizon. I get my first right. It’s three feet and peaky, down the line. It’s reminiscent on the good days I used to catch at Middles, just slopey, rippable bastards. I already feel how the board’s looser upon dropping in; they rail is more cooperative than the Zippy, and the board’s more responsive to my feet. My bottom turn is sharp and aggressive. Even though Old Mans is renowned for being soft and mooshy, this inside wave stands up a bit. As I bottom turn, I see the wave lining up. The Don K feels different. It’s a little odd seeing how close the nose is and how there’s less rocker. I climb the face with ease and get a nice, snappy backhand turn. This feels good. I pump and go for my second snap; it’s a little critical because the lip is curling. I hit the lip but my feet become unstuck, and the board continues on without me.

     I catch another right and the same thing happens. Not sure if I need a traction pad or if I shouldn’t be turning so late on a fish.

     I really want to open up on some lefts, and I’m more than satisfied with the Don K going frontside. Since there’s a little bit of size to work with, and good shape, I open up the ride with a lot of speed from the drop. I climb the face and get a good, swooping carve. The thickness of the rail gives me a lot of speed, and it transfers well through the motion. I redirect, but since the tide is coming up and this is an inside wave, the end section’s a little crumbly.

#

     Even though there are good waves to be had, it’s still a little inconsistent. The in-between waves are on the small side, hard to get into or not good for more than trimming. For these waves I need more volume. The tide gets even higher and really slows things down. Also, the wind starts to switch and goes onshore. 

     Briana and I head back to our spot. No one parked next to us. We have a rinsing shower to ourselves situated on a large, concrete slab, good for getting all the and off. The tree also provides a good hanging area to dry our gear. We rip into that Von’s sandwich and kill the whole fucking thing.

     I try to write, Briana tries to do homework, but it’s hard not to get distracted by the wonderful beach, the ocean, the waves, and just the whole atmosphere. We find ourselves going back and forth from the car to our blanket on the sand. We play cards and lie out until we fall asleep for an afternoon nappy poo.

DON K Results:

     No matter what, I can’t complain. I just wanted a chance to see what this board could do. Cheryl’s Don K fish is good for turns and performance, but not really ideal for one-to-two foot waves, unless they are round unlike mooshy Old Mans. For tiny, mooshy waves, I’d rather be on the Zippy because it has so much volume, but then there’s the disadvantage of riding something that’s less maneuverable. Right now my surfing is in its turning/carving stage, which the Don K. is perfect for but with at least three feet of surf. I’d really love to invest in one, but right now money is tight. Especially with the winter coming on soon, I’d better get used to riding a thruster again, especially if I end up going to back to Indo this next summer.