Water: Warm
Atmosphere: Sunny
Winds: Marginal
After partying the night with Cheryl and friends, I woke up at a reasonable time of 700 AM. I headed straight to 26th Street, but was on the late shift. I didn't even bother checking the parking lot - I headed straight for the parking in the neighborhood up the hill.
The neighborhood was quiet and asleep. I parallel parked in front of a house with an iron gate awning the roman arch entrance. Pulling out my Neck Beard, I wondered if this was the right board for today. I had brought my Fred Rubble... but Neck Beard has been so good to me lately. Neck Beard it is.
The surf looks a little bit more consistent than yesterday. The water is still shallow though, with brown sand sucking up the face on the inside.
I paddle out with two duck dives wetting my hair. The anticipation of the sets boil in my stomach.
The current is pulling people North again. It's not as bad compared to yesterday, and so I paddle slowly to maintain my position. Ross, Roy, and Steve are doing the same, maintaining their position slightly South of the 26th Street Tower.
I was looking for lefts today, but I saw the odd right break nice and long, so I tried to sit North of the locals. The waves in front of me would break just about five feet to my right, and double up on a bump right in front of me. If there wasn't a double up, I'd be in perfect position for it, but they don't break most of the session.
The left though!!! It was a steep take off deep, a shoulder-hopper a few yards down, and draining the whole way. We definitely had to be picky though...
Roy was killing it as always. He was constantly trying to pull in or pump down the line and punt an air.
I paddled for a right, and I was digging hard. But, the wave wasn't letting me in. I hear Roy hoot from the inside. I look up, and see Ross coming out of a ledgy left barrel.
"DOUBLE BARRELLL!" Roy yelled.
Ross takes the wave all the way to the inside. He took a long time to come back out.
Double Barrel.
A set approaches, and Steve is in position, However, a fresh face is diggin deep on the set wave. Steve pulls out, and the guy pops up. His board, a blue, wide, fatty thruster turns sideways, exposing its belly to us onlookers.
"OHHHHHHH!" I yell.
A mountain of white wash explodes ten feet into the air.
Steve is paddling for the second wave. It's a close out, so he pulls out and goes for the third wave, which was a close out too.
"I would have paddled for that first one, but that BARNYARD was going for it. I knew he's gonna eat shit!" he exclaims at Roy.
"Ey!! BARNYARD!!" He yells in the guys face. Terrified, Fresh Face looks away. "Yea, I was gonna go for that wave, but I knew you were gonna eat SHIT! So I didn't go!!" He looks straight at him.
Steve paddles away. The guy looks dejected, but trying to compose himself from the new asshole he got torn open.
Roy shakes his head without saying anything.
Ross, Roy and Steve are getting their quota of waves. I am doing ok for myself. I'm catching a few and trying to milk them as much as possible.
A rogue insider pops up, and I'm inside of Roy. I paddle battle him, and I get the position. Pointing my nose down the face at an angle, I take off fast. Roy pulls out, and I pop up on the wave. All my weight shifts to my back leg and slam on the brakes on the speed from the drop.
"Don't you fall down! Roy backed out! Don't faallll!" I tell myself.
I stick the drop and make it to the bottom. My board automatically turns up the wave, and I shit my eyes from the board to the lip. I'm thinking, "Top turn, top turn, top turn." I look up to the wave, hoping to see a smashable lip.
The lip starts standing up. I change mid face to grab the rail and stall, much like Kelly Slater or Mick Fanning does on their backside. Before I could even grab the rail, I see the board start to shoot up behind me with my feet unstuck.
I close my eyes.
THUNK, I hear. A blunt object Charlie-horsing me on my left thigh.
I take cover for my head and wince in pain as I get thrust underwater. Resurfacing, I catch my breath as my numb left leg regained the throbbing pain of a surfboard rail nailing the tenderest of fat and muscle.
A wave washes over me, and I still have to catch my breath. I try to squat, but there is too much buoyancy in the water. I paddle in as motionlessly as possible. I unleash on the sand, and catch my breath a little more. The throbbing pain hasn't subsided. Well, lucky my board didn't hit my head. I try to do a few more squats, getting blood pumping into the area. Finally, I am able to do a few squats in a row, so I leash up and paddle back out.
I had to catch at least one more wave. It doesn't matter that the waves aren't that good, or that my leg hurt. I had made one of the best surfers at 26th Street back out of a wave, ate shit, and have to, no... NEED TO, catch at least one wave in the line up.
My last wave was a left, and I do a small floater to the inside. I take the wave as far as I can, and call it a day.
Up the hill, I find myself greeted by a kitten.
The kitten looked at me, and I looked at him. I meowed, and he meowed back. He moved in to get pet, and then moved on to my car. I put my board down, and he checks out my board.
He meows, and goes under a neighbors car in order to escape the heat.
Mahalos Mother Ocean!!
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