Sunday, November 18, 2012

Don't Rain on My Parade 111712

Surf Report: 2-4 feet
Winds: Off shore
Water: Cold
Atmosphere: Rainy

Dawn Patrol!! 

Today was a surprisingly fun day of surf.  I woke up around 500 and tried to go back to sleep but failed.  I did my daily hot water and yoga warm up before I went downstairs to start my car.  Matt was texting early morning too.  He was genuinely stoked his brother Randy was in town from Java, visiting for the holidays.  The last time Matt surfed with Randy was in Bali, during his “Barney in Bali” days. 

I got to the beach extra early, so I could hit the water first and have uncrowded surf for however long it lasts.  My plan succeeded. 

I got some quick lefts under my belt before there were 10 people in the line up.  They weren’t anything epic, so I was hungry for more.  As I sat waiting in the line up, the crowd grew thicker and thicker, and the rain started to fall down harder and harder. 

The grey skies blocked any sign of sunlight.  The winds were off shore, and the crowd undulated with the current.  I found myself paddling south many times since I was whisked away quietly with the current, and the crowd, further north. 

I started counting the seconds in between the sets.  Every 30 seconds or so, a rideable wave came through to the line up. 

Ross got some sick rights early in the session.  His backside hacks are so on point and critical.  The sheer beauty and power he puts into them is worth a thousand mentions.  He pumps seamlessly on the face of a wave, and then sets up his bottom turn.  He unleashes a massive attack of power hidden in his small frame on the lip, and re-enters the wave to set up another thick bottom turn for a ruthless hack. 

The seconds between a set grow from 30 seconds to about 50 seconds…

Roy waves me down in the line up.  We say, “What’s up” to each other, and try to maneuver through the growing crowd.  He takes the set waves as always.  He is talking, socializing with pretty much everybody, while quietly positioning himself in the peak of an A-Frame gem, which he rips apart with his forehand. 

“Man, I wish I had my fish!” he says.

The count between sets increase from seconds to minutes. 

Matt and Randy show up, and so we say our hello’s.  Randy was having crowd anxiety, and I don’t blame him.  Coming from empty line ups in Java to the hustle and bustle of a crowded line up in one of the biggest cities in the world gave a jolt of uneasiness to him.  He said he was stoked to get some waves that he could turn on, since all he rides in Java and Bali were barrels.  He just rides barrels.  That, in itself, is pretty ridiculous.  He only rides barrels.

I too was getting some crowd anxiety.  There were more and more people in the line up.  Cmon people!  It’s cold, and it’s RAINING! Stay home!!

The groms came out and dominated the line up with their sheer numbers.  I saw Jordan in the mix, and some of the other groms I see here on a regular basis.  Every wave that came through was plagued by three or four groms kicking and scratching.  This was getting ridiculous. 

Hideki and Chris show up to the line up too.  One of Hideki’s first rides was a steep close out that no one was going to make.  I didn’t think Hideki was going to make it either, but he somehow made it down the face and made it to the flats.  He looked genuinely stoked to have made that wave. 

Chris was on a new board.  Super thick, his board measured 5’9” x 2 ¾” and a pretty wide measurement.  He caught some waves with it, but was being snaked on all of them.  I snaked him too, since I was growing frustrated with the crowd.  Total foul play right there, and I definitely owe him about 10 waves for outright snaking violation.  Ma bad Chris. 

Khang shows up, but I didn’t get to see him until the end of the session.  He was surfing further north where the crowd wasn’t too thick. 

A guy in a blue and grey rip curl suit with a hood enters the line up, paddles up, and starts to scratch for a left.  I start scratching for it too, but he nudges my board as he takes off, and I’m left with my balls in my hand and a frustrated self.  What the fuck?  Turns out this guy was parked next to me.  He’s a ginger that I’ve seen a few times before.  As I was talking to him in the parking lot, he said that was his only good wave he caught. 

A group of Japanese surfers were in the line up too.  These guys were in a tight knit pack, and had just entered the line up too.  I see a wave pop up and so I paddle for it.  A guy on the inside paddles out to the line up, flips around, and paddles for the same wave.  I pop up, but this guy is taking off already.  We nearly collide. 

I ask him, “Are you okay?”

He nods in silence. 

“Didn’t you see me paddle for that wave?  Cmon man, you gotta look both ways,” I tell him.

He paddles away in silence.

His friends ask him in Japanese if he’s ok.  He says he’s fine, but “Aitsu ga waruinndayo” (“He’s the one at fault.”)

I shout at him and his friends in Japanese: “Jyoudan daro?  Ore ga wariinokayo?  Mitetadaro??” (“What?  You’re kidding me right? It’s my fault?  You didn’t see me paddle for the wave first?”)

I think they were surprised that I spoke Japanese.  I do not look like anyone born and raised in Japan, and I do not look like I am Japanese either.  Most people think I’m Korean, Chinese, or even Mongolian.  I don’t mind that people mistaken me for whatever Asian culture anymore.  I used to take offense, but hey, Asians are all Asians.  If someone do get mad, then he must have some pride associated with their own Asian culture.  I believe pride should be taken upon something one achieves, instead of something they are born in to.  Sorry to digress.

So the group of Japanese surfers mumble their way with the current.  And now, I’m just, plain, fucking frustrated.  Frustrated at the crowd.  Frustrated at the waves.  Frustrated at the timing between waves.  Frustrated at the group of Japanese people.  Frustrated at myself. 

I catch a right, and the section runs ahead of me.  My one fucking chance to be unfrustrated!!  And I fucking blew it.  A let out a loud ARRGGGHHH.

Eric, one of the locals who rides a blue board, looked at me and said, “What’s wrong Klaude?  Surfing’s supposed to be fun!  Why you so frustrated?”

He was right.  Surfing is supposed to be fun.  I was so caught up in that frustration that I let it eat myself up.  And now I was pissed off at myself for blowing a wave.  This was unlike me.  I had to let it go.  I just had to let these bad feelings go. 

I caught a small, insider right.  I pumped for the face, and cut back.  I feel the board sticking under my feet as I look back to the shore.  The wave flattens out, and that was the best wave of my whole morning. 

Tom Yam and Dais also show up.  The crowd kept growing thicker and thicker, and the minutes between sets grew longer and longer.  Seconds went to minutes, minutes grew into hours, and finally grew into I-stopped-counting-between-the-sets-because-it’s-useless. 

I took two close outs, and called it a day.  The waves still seemed really fun.  A guy took a back side left, and did a 360 on his backhand.  Well, if he can squeeked that out, I’m sure he’s gonna stay out. 

Back at the lot, I see Randy, Matt, Orlando, Jose, and Ross.  They were all saying how crowded it was and what not. 

George, another local, comes up to us, and asks if we want persimmons.  He gave me a bagful last time, so I thanked him for that. He said he had more and he needed to get rid of them, so we should take them.  I kindly obliged.  I learned at a young age that being “Japanese” in these situations, when receiving a gift, did not do me any good.  The “Japanese” KK would be modest and coy, and only take about four or five persimmons.  The “American” KK is loud and boisterous, and took about fifteen.  I kindly thanked George with my bag full of persimmons. 

I ate about five of them once I got home.  So delicious!!

Hideki, Matt, Randy, Khang, and I grabbed a quick breakfast at the Blue Butterfly Café.  This breakfast spot has become a staple for our crew for post-surf fuel.  For about $7, one can get a bagel sandwich that comes nice and toasty, side of fruit, and a nice cup of coffee.  You just can’t beat that. 

Today’s lesson:  don’t let the crowd frustrate you.  It adversely affects your surfing!!!  Surfing is supposed to be fun.  It’s ok to get mad or frustrated.  We are all human.  But as quickly as something infuriates us, we should let it go.  As soon as we let it go, we can go back to being free again, unbound from the chains of suffering. 

Mahalos Mother Ocean!!

2 comments:

  1. God KK, this sounds like my affliction................frustration, frustration, frustration............I think if I learnt anything dragging my board from WA to Indonesia to Central America then it was to have fun.............and stop trying to hard!

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    1. Becca, I KNOW!!! man, i do try too hard too many times in the course of my life. surfing is supposed to be the one activity where i can relax and slow everything down, but this day was just ajskdlf;asjdfasjkdfl;asdfjasdl;f inside my head, and so i wasn't able to shake off the frustration until the end. thanks for reading!!

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