BETWEEN NOW AND INDO PT.2, TUE 14JUL2015

 

Loc: El Porto, Rosecrans

Time: 0615-0745?

Crew: Garr, Dave T.

Conditions: 2-3 FT, overcast, glassy, dumpy

     Gar says he has a few leashes for me to take to Indo and that he’s surfing Rosecrans in the morning. “Garr vs Duckbutter heat?” he says.

#

     I sleep clear through my alarm. Had some good tea last night that knocked me on my ass. After brushing my teeth and filling up my water jug, I head straight to Rosecrans, scoring parking down the hill.

     Hitting the sand, it doesn’t take long to spot Dave and Garr. Dave’s deep on a right, but he takes it. He gets down the line a little before Gary drops in on him. He tries to kick out for Dave, but the ride’s already over.

     Paddling out, I get Gary’s attention and make a triangle sign, calling interference.

     “But I had priority,” says Garr.

     I eye a left coming our way. I’m deep but I turn and go. Despite just getting here, Garr backs off and lets me have it. The lip curls as I stick my bottom turn and line myself up. I get a good glimpse in the barrel, and then I penetrate out the back. Unfortunately, my fucking mouth was open, and I end up swallowing a big gulp of water.

     “Wooooh,” says Gary. “You were in there.”

     Fuck, truth is that I wonder if I should have just tried to sneak in a pump. I always wonder if I’m bailing too early. Maybe I am.

     El Porto doesn’t do so well on a low tide, usually, and going low to mid is still too low. There are peaks, but they double up when they hit the inside and stretch out. 34^th street has a good left in the distance. A few longboarders use their equipment to pop up way early and milk their rides. Meanwhile, Gary, Dave, and I are caught in a lull. A few other guys paddle out. We jockey around and switch spots without much success, at least until a little left comes my way.

     It’s two feet and fat. I pump but feel sluggish. Instead of carving, I pull a floater on a flat face. Lackluster. At the end section, I do a bailing layback. Dave gives me a little nod, but it was unworthy.

     Dave catches a left and gets a critical floater. Gary goes right, actually connecting a legit backhander into a second turn, a two-piece.

     Gary’s just caught his last wave in. An A-frame pops up out back. Dave and I paddle for it. He goes left, I right. Bottom turning, the face is staying open. I crack one fluid backhand snap and ride out of it with speed.

     It’s hard to leave, so I paddle back out and get another hit on a closeout section.

     Dave and I walk back up the hill. When we part ways, he wishes me a good trip in Indo. At Gary’s SUV, he hands me two used competition leashes.

     “I’ll bring you back some coffee,” I say.

     That night, I have a couple more stops to make. Rick hooks it up with more Hurley donations, plus a set of FCS fins for backups. As I’m trying to leave, he can’t stop giving me advice about surf travelling, making sure I have this and that. 

     My sister gives me some stuff for my brother, one of the items are old family pictures of my mom.

     I think I know what I felt surfing Monday. As much as I wanted to hit the water, things were just starting to get a little stale. Too many single-hitter sessions. One-turn quota days can only keep one content for so long. Even Trestles has been a hard score this year, but tomorrow, Bri and I have Java . . . Java. . . .

BETWEEN NOW AND INDO PT.1, MON 13JUL2015

Loc: Manhattan Beach

Time: 0900?

Crew: Bri

Conditions: 3 FT, sunny, onshore, crowded

Pre Blog:

     I write this to you now, sitting on my Japan Airlines flight to Narita and then to Jakarta AND THEN to Yogya. I’ve already watched Chappie, read a little bit of Neil Strauss, as well as a Bahasa Indonesia pocketbook. Normally, I just dive into things and write about the session, but before typing I read my first entry of the year, going back to January.

     Reading yourself is like having a conversation with a different person. No, the DD of January isn’t so far underdeveloped than the DD of today that they can’t relate, but I’m intrigued by his self analytics, what his thoughts are to the things he feels he’s doing wrong and why. Surely, I don’t have those answers for him, but it’s interesting to read him, relate, and to be able to say, “Yeah, man, you’ll get a little bit better at those things. Just keep doing it.”

 

Two Days Ago:

     I had just come off of a long three-day work week, which is nothing for a regular nine-to-fiver. Bottom line was that I had missed out on the surf, that little south that came through. Klaude said the current was strong on Saturday and that there was zero shape. Sunday was more manageable, Ross even getting a double barrel for local lore. Me? I just couldn’t wait to paddle back out.

     Of course, I slept in. Yup, had to after a brutal three days. My body claimed the hours unbeknownst to my own agenda.

     Bri and I arrived at Manhattan Beach. The surfcams had showed scattered glassy peaks, but now the wind’s on it.

     We get down to the sand and see some longboarders and the surf school setting up. The junior lifeguards are exercising in front of the tower, so there’s no surfing in front of 26^th Street.

     We shoot for a hole in the lineup just in front of the brickhouse. Most of the faces are unfamiliar. I see Costco Kim in the distance with Ross.

     The waves are coming in a little sectiony and walled, the usual local symptoms of bad surf, and some of the decent waves have other surfers vying for them.

     I catch shit for wave and paddle over towards 26^th. A few other guys here are regulars. Ross waves. I wave back.

     Maybe I could have gotten more waves. Bri did much better than I did, as usual. I just remember that after an hour I was ready to go. My next ride actually opened up on my backside, an open-faced section-on-section wave. I pulled off the snap but kicked out as the lip shut down.

     Back at the car, Juan A. said he was on his way to drop off a rashguard for me. We meet in the parking lot.

     “It looks fun out there!” he says.

     “Eh, it’s all right.”

     “Just all right? I just past Rosecrans. It looks like there’s shape. I wish I was out there.”

     I shrug. I’m Mr. Unstoked right now. I don’t know what it is. Maybe I’m due up for a really good session. Between now and  Indo, I only have one more day to surf here.

OIL GLASS, WED 08JULY2015

Loc: El Porto, Rosecrans

Time: 0610-0740

Crew: Bri & Garr

Conditions: 3-4 FT+, glassy, overcast, low tide, dumpy

     Bri and I see Gary making it out to the lineup just south of Rosecrans, so we walk over and begin our warm up. “Look!” I say, as I see a wedgey left pop up. Gary’s on it, the only guy in the water between 30^th and 42^nd Street. He turns and goes. For Manhattan Beach, it’s as good as a small tube as you can ask for. Perfectly shouldered and round, no opportunity for turns, just pull in. He does, drives in the tube, and gets to the exit, but something goes wrong. The door shuts on him.

     When we paddle out to meet him, he says, “I saw it. I was almost out, and then my front foot slipped off the board.” Says his Lost Mini Driver was in the rafters too long, so the basecoat got oily. When he was waxing his board earlier, it was rubbing off the base. It happens.

     Meanwhile, the surf is consistent. Maybe a little bit more water, and it would be more rippable. Not ideal for longboards. There are fast sectiony lines, some hollow but closing out. A few corners are makeable if you’re good enough. The waves jack up and double as the bottom sucks out on the inside, a little treacherous, a lot of steep steps. Bri’s Becker isn’t ideal for today.

     The first half of the session is all glory. Gary and I go for the sets. Again, I would normally pass on the closers, but with Garr here, I push myself. It really does help your surfing to surf with those better than you.

     Some of my attempts are worthy. My Mini Driver covers so much distance when I pump. On one, I pump down a vertical line that’s jacking up, and then I pull in as the lip curls over. I get a glimpse in the tube, and then it runs away from me.

     Resurfacing, I second-guess myself. Did the wave really run away from me or did I bail too early? I had so much momentum. Maybe I should’ve just kept pumping and trusted my speed. I’ve also outran barrel sections before, too. Ahhhh, just shows how novice I am when it comes to round conditions.

     It’s a hard morning for Bri, but she’s trying. The surf is short, fast, and round, so it’s really hard for her to milk it like she usually does.

     The three of us fight the current. More surfers paddle out but get swept towards 42^nd. We’re in between Rosecrans and 34^th Street.

     Gary calls me into a left. Even though the lines are broken up today, there are a few gems. I see it has a shoulder on it. It’s fast. Popping up, I nearly purl. I expect the section to go hollow, another pull-in pincher, but the face opens up, spills, and holds. In a split second, I decide to bottom turn and rush a forehand snap. I pull it off. Redirecting down the line, I pump for more distance and then kickout. Bri and Garr smile back at me.

     After that, the session changes. The water gets even smoother. “Oil Glass,” says Gary. A small window opens despite the low tide, and the surf turns shouldery.

     A peak comes straight to Bri. She’s frozen, so I paddle over and take the right. Legit backhand snap. Towards the end of the session, I get another one just like it. Three single-shot waves, the initial left the best one.

     Back at the parking lot, we’re all stoked. The session ended up being better than expected, easily my best session since Rick’s camp trip. I needed this. If these conditions keep up, tomorrow should be even better with more swell and more water at first light. I’m on it.

Compared to all my sessions since June 16th, this morning's session covered the second most amount of distance, also tying my fastest wave at 9.6 mph.