DRC’S FIRST WINTER SESSION: 11.27.2010 SAT

    Last night I told Shan that I’d meet him at Porto at first light.  At first light I was snuggled under my blankets with Lauren’s warm body right next to me.  I shut off the alarm and told myself that I’d take a break from surfing.  My left shoulder has been bothering me lately, I went to sleep late, I hade a little sinus headache, and the surf was going to be small any way.  Shan called me and said he’d check it out later.  A little after eight o’clock Cheryl and Shan text that they were already there.  Klaude also called me and told me he was on his way to hang out.  Well, there was no way I could’ve sat this one out while all of my DRC peeps had their toes touching the sand, and I was at home, butt naked with my pubes pointing out every which way.  I told Lauren to get her ass in gear because we were going to the beach!

    I called Jon and gave him the invite.  As Lauren and I pulled into the Porto lot I saw Klaude, Cheryl, Shan, and Christina on the sand getting ready to paddle out.  Lauren picked a spot next to Klaude’s gear.  I gave that Japanese guy a hug and wished him a late Happy Turkey Day.  He told me that Dais was on the way.  All we were missing was Jon (our Token Mexican); if he was there we would’ve almost had a full crew.

    It was small, but the conditions were a little better than yesterday.  It was sunny, there was no wind, the surf was consistent, and the waves were thigh to waist high on the plus sets.  There was a little crowd out, but everyone seemed easy, and there was enough for everyone.  I greeted the rest of the bunch in the line up.  Christina and Cheryl showed me their recent purchases.  It seemed that I was the only jackasses that didn’t have any winter gear yet.  I was amped from the cup of coffee I drank, and it made me anxious and over-excited.  I was stoked to surf with my friends and to have Lauren with me (even though she wasn’t in the water).   I already saw Shan catch a nice little left from the shore.  He brought out his seven footer.  Everyone else was getting waves except for me.  Costco-Christina was paddling into waves, and Cheryl, AKA Fish Killer, was catching them with ease, too.  I saw Shantasm paddle into a wave with only two strokes.  Cheryl told me that her gloves helped her paddling.  I guess they all have bionic paddling capabilities now.  It was great seeing Cheryl catch so many waves.  She’s the gnarliest female surfer that I know, just from the fact that she’s usually really consistent, and she’ll be the only chick in the line up at times. 

    The waves were kind of soft, and I was having a hard time getting the drop on some of them.  I fell on a lot of waves; they were weak.  I think I wanted to do more than the wave allowed, so I finally just drew a narrow line and focused on staying on the face and keeping speed.  I had to freeze my stance on a lot of waves to make sure I didn’t lose momentum.  My wave of the day was a right that I had to trim from top to bottom to keep up with the section.  I think I stayed on that one all the way to shore.

    I would turn back to wave at Lauren, then I’d wave at Klaude.  Poor Klaude.  I’m glad that he could make it out to watch us surf, but I knew that he wished he was in the line up with us more than anything.  I told everyone else that it would be cool if we could push him on a couple waves, but any accident could cause a major setback towards his recovery. 
    Dais showed up and joined in on the wave buffet.  We dominated a whole peak to ourselves.  It’s rare that we all get a chance to surf together, and the energy in the water was positive.  Just before 11:00 A.M. the wind and tide came up a little, and the waves got blown out and softer.  Team CC (Cheryl and Christina) left first, then the rest of us followed.  We shot the shit in the parking lot and decided to meet again tomorrow for the bigger surf.  It’s supposed to be three to four feet tomorrow.  Let’s hope they are right.  DRC all the way, I’m glad to be part of this group

DESPERATELY SEEKING SIZE: 11.26.2010 FRI

    I was smart after my last session.  I dried both sides of my wetsuit and even hung it by my heater to ensure I wouldn’t have a moist suit in the morn.  I woke up at 5:30 A.M., suited up in my apartment, and was at the Porto lot right after it opened.  On the way over there I could tell that the surf was minimal.  Dockweiler and Hammers had small and dribbling waves breaking on shore.  The tide was low, and the parking lot was deserted, except for a small handful of longboarders.  I parked next to another guy who was just like me:  sitting in his car, scratching his chin, phone I hand, and looking at the surf.  It was small.  There were some really clean waves, but they were barely two feet high.  I looked, and looked, and looked.  I text the whole DRC and reported my findings.  Rick kept telling me to grab a longboard and to meet him and his brother, Manny, a little later.  I cruised to 26th St.;  it was worse.  I drove to Manhattan Pier in desperation.  No Dice.  Literally, my friend Dais wasn’t there, there were no actual dice, and on top of that there were no fucking waves.  It was just as small as Porto.  I hoped for there to be some kind of shoulders off of the pier, but they were tiny.  I saw the locals, too, just standing there debating.  Everyone was a little sketch to paddle out that morning. 

    My problem was that I was already in my wetsuit, and I’ve never returned home in a dry wetsuit before, so I was obligated to paddle out.  I text Rick and told him I’d be by 45th.  When I returned, there were a couple more cars there and more heads in the line up, but I scored free parking anyway.  I paddled out at about 7:30 A.M.  I took the same peak by 45th, just like the day before.  It was bright and sunny, and the sand wasn’t cold like yesterday, but the water was another story.  Even though it was flat; the waves were clean, and at first the waves seemed pretty consistent.  A lot of longboarders waited on the outside for waves, and right when I got to the line, I caught three waves in a row towards the inside.  I got a nice left that let me pump all the way down the line for a long ride.  I had my own peak and didn’t have to share it with anyone.  The first half hour of surf was great, and the paddle out seemed worth it.  Once eight o’clock hit, there was a long wait between sets.  That long wait killed me.  There was no need to move around; I just sat there and gazed at the horizon, searching, praying for a bump in the surface.  I got cold.  The cold was magnified by my stagnation.  Another guy paddled close by and commented on the temp.  I was able to get a couple more waves, but I had to call the session at eight-thirty.  I got to the parking lot and was welcomed by Rick and his daughter, Jane.  Manny flaked, and I guess Rick decided it wasn’t worth it.  I was so cold that I didn’t bother to shower off or use my hot water bottles I brought, despite taking two hot pisses in my wetsuit.  I got back to my car and was too cold to take off my wetsuit.  I put a towel on my seat and drove off still suited up.  I’ve never done that before; I was that fucking cold.  I could barely even turn the fucking key because I couldn’t feel my thumbs.  When I took a piss when I got home, I swear I saw steam coming from my dickhole.

    I later found out that Cheryl, Christina, and Dais paddled out a while after I left.  They said it was still fun.  I thought that the wind was picking up when I left, but I guess it didn’t.  It was an ice session with tiny surf.  I guess, this winter, I’ll just have to get used to life without thumbs, and a life with steamy piss.

SWELL DWINDLING: 11.25.2010 THU

    Even though the surf reports said that the surf would go flat, Shan and I were too pumped to pass up another morning session at Porto.  None of us scored on the free parking this time around.  I saw Ray in the parking lot before Shan showed up.  By the time he pulled up, I was already in my wetsuit.  I told him I’d look at the jetty, but if it didn’t look good that I’d be at 45th or the tanks.  It was just after 6:00 A.M., so the sun wasn’t up yet, and the sky was still an unlit blue.  My feet began to hurt as soon as they touched the sand; it felt like I was walking on packs of ice.  The jetty wasn’t pumping at all, but the usual breaks were still producing some little rides.  We got there before high tide, so the waves were about waist high.  Ray and I looked at each other, and without saying anything we acknowledged the freezing sand.  The water wasn’t much better either.  Shan showed up with his surf gloves that he bought from 9star, and he praised them for keeping the water out of his wetsuit and his hands warm.  I told him that my brother would look at me in disdain if her ever saw me wearing such things.  We saw our little friend, the seal, on the inside.  This time he was shaking something in his mouth.  Indeed, he got a fresh kill.  Good … good for him.  I guess it was Thanksgiving for the animals, too.

    We were catching the lefts from the peak off of 45th.  They were soft, spilling, waves with medium power on the drop.  That morning had a lot more surfers than the previous mornings.  There were black suited figures all the way from 45th to Manhattan.  Luckily, everyone wanted to hog the main breaks, while Shan and I had no crowd troubles where we were.  The wind and tide picked up a little, and the waves got smaller and softer.  It turned into a longboarder’s wave again.  It was 8:00 A.M.  Shan and I had the opportunity to feed the meter or call it a day.  We decided that it wasn’t worth it and headed out. 

    It was a Thanksgiving Day session.  We got some waves, but nothing significant.  However, It was better than nothing.