Scoring Huntington Beach and WLA Tournament - 042212

Surf report: 3-4 feet solid

Winds: on shore

Atmosphere: gloomy

Water: Warmer

Saturday was a lackluster day for surf.  It was not a day to write home about.  I had fun, but when I heard Matt and Fransauce scored in HB, I started thinking maybe I can make the trek down to Huntington too.

Nicky calls me, saying that he got off work Saturday night, and wanted to surf Sunday morning.  Christina called me too, saying that she wanted to go down, so Nicky and I would meet her down there. 

I get up at 530 AM and snooze for about ten minutes.  I do my stretches, and call Nicky.  I wasn’t really surprised that he was up.  I felt that he wanted to surf, and so he would be up no matter what.  I swing by his house and drop off his belated birthday gift I’ve had since the end of January and we give each other deep, loving hugs.  I missed this kid! 

We make our way down to the 405, and catch up on life.  We get off Goldenwest, our old stomping grounds where we “camped” out in my van and slept over to wake up to empty surf.  We park our car in the residential area, as we always do, and get changed.  I had to pee so badly I pee’d in my wetsuit while standing on the blacktop. 

Christina was already in the water, and we were able to spot her blue OCD board.  Her board’s wax job is a direct reflection of her:  the wax job is just so calculated and precise, not a grain of wax is out of place. 

For the first hour or so, I didn’t really catch anything.  The rising tide was really making things difficult for anyone to catch a wave.  I told myself not to drift, but I saw Nicky drifting, so I said fuck it and let the current take me.  It was a Sunday morning.  Just chill and relax! 

I took a small wave for a short ride.  I look back, and these sets started to roll in.  I could see Nicky getting pummeled on the first one that rolled over me.  Then I see a second one, and a third one, and a fourth one in the horizon.   A smile runs across my face.  This is what I’ve been missing!  A good pounding on the inside.  I start to gun for the horizon, but every time I duck dive, the white water steamrolls me.  I see Nicky get further and further back.  His arms are not in surfer shape.  Christina is getting pounded like a piece of veal way on the inside.  I make it out after a few sets, but Nicky comes back a bit later, saying he took at least ten on the head.  Christina comes back waaaaaaay later, and I’m guessing she took at least ten on the head too. 

We drifted into this pack of surfers who were highly competitive and were packed into this small peak.  I tried to go for a wave, but this guy was literally right next to me, where his rail would touch my rail.  Yes, he had the inside, so I backed out, but man, I couldn’t really understand why he had to be so close the whole time!  I had enough of this drifting, so I paddled away from the pack and sat on my own peak.

And then the waves just started coming.  I lost track of Nicky and Christina.  I caught about four consecutive sets on this one peak with no one around.  It was just exhilarating to work on my cut backs and pumping.  My board felt really good under my feet.  The high tide definitely made the wave a little weaker, but it’s Huntington!  The water moves a lot faster here than it does in LA. 

Enter longboarder #3. 

This longboarder and I share a wave.  We pop up at the same time, so I decided to follow him.  He dropped in on me, but at this point, I didn’t really care.  I pumped, did a semi cutback, carved and pumped all the way to where he was.  I laughed and smiled, clapping my hands, and pointing at him.  The look of fear overtook this guy’s face.  “Dude, it’s my last wave!  I’m going in!  I’m going in!”  I was like… what?  I’m not chasing you out… I’m actually stoked that you caught a wave!! Then I realized, he probably got chased out a few times for doing what he just did, and didn’t want any “problems.”  That was definitely weird. 

Nicky paddles over, saying that Christina took off because her meter was running out.  He and I stayed out for a few more waves, and I could tell his arms were just burning from fatigue, so I said, “Last wave?”

“Yea, last wave,” he replied.

Pho Ga

Right on queue, a small wave came.  It wasn’t anything spectacular, but I rode it in, and called it a day. 

Yea, the waves were nice, but I think surfing and spending time with Nicky made it all the more better.  Not taking anything away from Christina, but Nicky is my little brother from another mother, and I haven’t spent time with him in a long time.  It’s all love. 

We decide to drive down a little further to Brookhurst and get some Pho.  From there, we ate Chicken Pho (Pho Ga) and a spring roll each, and took him six sandwiches each.  Huzzah!!  What a perfect way to start a Sunday. 

6 sammiches each

This whole weekend has been an activity-filled weekend, since our annual basketball tournament was on.  My boys’ team, the WLA Lightning, is the host of this tournament.  I have participated in this when since I was in 2^nd grade, and all the way through high school.  I coached a team from 3^rd grade to high school, and once they graduated, I took on this new team. 

I’ve had some kids quit already, but there are a few core kids that always come to practice, and always come to the games.  However, Friday night, I was informed that we may have to forfeit since there were only 3 kids showing up to the game at 10 AM.  I was very frustrated, and severely angry.  I sent out an angry email, which I re-wrote three or four times to tone it down (my friend Lisa told me, “That’s toned down??” haha) and hammered the parents for not committing to a tournament we were hosting.  One of the parents finally answered back, saying that they were quitting.  I couldn’t believe that they would notify us the day before a tournament that they were quitting!!  This kid, whom I love, hasn’t shown up to practice, and we were trying to get in contact with him for months.  And then, he just ups and leaves without any reason, or any heads up.  I’ve had kids quit like this before, and it always leaves a bad taste in my mouth. 

In the end, we got 5 kids to show up to the 10 AM game, and steam rolled the other team.  We had another game at 7 PM, and we had two more kids show up.  I grilled one of the parents about his commitment to the team, and how much of a burden he created by not communicating with us.  He was very apologetic, and I told him that all I have now is his word that he will commit to the team, and that was that. 

Sunday morning, this parent that I grilled shows up and volunteers as scorekeeper from early in the morning, making his actions speak louder than his words.  That definitely pleased me.  I’m always a believer in actions speaking louder than words. 

Sunday’s game was our “championship” game.  I took one of my big bags that I put my groceries in and told them:

“This bag right here, this is my trophy bag.  You guys won both games yesterday, so this is our championship game.  You guys are getting trophies after this game.  If you guys win, you can keep these trophies.  If you guys lose, I take your trophies into my trophy bag.”

They all looked scared to lose.  They looked fired up for the game.

Now, the game was a good game.  The parents were into it, we were into it.  The first half was all us.  We came out of the gates really strong.  But the second half belonged to the other team.  In the end, we ended up in a tie.  We don’t keep score since these are 2^nd graders, but the parents kept score, and we were tied at the end of the game.  So…

The balls spin on these trophies!! how cool is that???

“I get to keep all your trophies!”  These are really nice trophies too.  Way better than the ones I used to get, or my previous team used to get too!  The look of devastation and sadness on my kids faces… PRICELESS!! 

I told the parents to please not tell them that I’m giving them back the trophies at Friday’s practice.  I am a mean coach, but not that mean.  I am giving them back.  A lot of the parents had a sinister smile on their face and agreed not to.  I think they want their kids to be winners.  I just fear that one of the parents will let the cat out of the bag.  I want the kids to get a taste of bitterness when they lose an important game.  They should learn from their loss, not be rewarded for their loss. 

Mahalos Mother Ocean!!  You made my day. 

Nothing Goes as Planned, and That's Alright 102911

Surf Report: 1-3 footers

Water: Cold

Atmosphere: Sunny

Winds: Mild

I waited in anticipation for Saturday. 

I knew the surf was going to suck, but it didn’t matter to me.  I need to surf.  I need to be in the water.

I had the day off on Friday so I could study for my CPA test that I sit for on Tuesday.  I studied most of the day, and stopped studying around 1130 PM.  None of the things I was going over were making sense at this time, so I figured my brain was fried enough, and I sat watching youtube videos while drinking a beer before I slept.

I couldn’t sleep.

I woke up to my alarm at 530.  It was time to get up, and I had energy buzzing through my veins. 

I got into the car without eating anything, and drove off to 26^th Street.  Da boys were surfing Huntington Beach, but I had to stay local so I could study later on in the day.  I got to 26^th Street before the sun rose, and the white lines in the horizon looked dismal at best.  They dribbled in like sperm from your penis hole on your eighth masturbation attempt. 

There were two cars in the lot, with guys furiously waxing up their brand new boards.  The faces weren’t familiar, so they must have been new, up-and-coming surfers who learned to surf during the summer crowds.  Kudos to them for continuing on with surf, after putting up with the crazy crowds of summer.  But, I questioned their actions.  Are you really going to surf in this CRAP??

I called Matt for consolation. 

“Yo, sorry bro, if I knew you were coming, I would have waited! I’m already in Carson!”

What, really?

I made the call to wait near Matt’s house and have Khang pick me up.  Dais was already there, and Khang said he would come as soon as possible.

Thirty minutes passed as I sat in my car, reading a magazine with the radio on.  I called Khang out of impatience, and he said he was two minutes away.

We loaded up my stuff in the car, and headed to Brookhurst.  I was a Negative Nancy the whole way over, saying that we’re missing the window since we left El Segundo around 700.  The car couldn’t move fast enough for my brain.  My brain took over and shot out negativity all around.

We got to parking on Brookhurst, and Khang opted to wait out the last thirty minutes of “no parking” from 800 PM to 800 AM.  Dais and I went ahead to the beach. 

The sun was baking me inside my wetsuit, but my feet were freezing.  The asphalt felt like broken mortar under our feet as our nerves got pinched and needled on every single point of surface area.  Once we got to the sand, the pinching and needling got worse.  We couldn’t get to the water fast enough.  We couldn’t pick up our feet quickly enough to escape the cold.

We got to the shore and saw the sparse crowd.  The waves were small, but hell, it was better than 26^th Street, I’ll attest to that.

“Whooooo~~~~” Dais called out.

A nice left hand, two wave set rolled through the river jetty.  The crowd over there was PACKED to capacity.  No doubt it was worth it to the locals surfing there, since those two sets looked really fun and big, especially for the lack of swell.

The surf session seems like a blur now, trying to recall it.  We surfed for a solid three hour session, which was totally out of “KK’s planned activities for the day.”  But then again, coming to HB and surfing with da boys was totally out of “KK’s planned activities for the day.”  So I figure it was a good day.

I think each of us caught at least one single wave that was memorable though. 

First off, Dais:  I was paddling for a right, and wasn’t really on the peak.  I was hanging on the shoulder, and felt lazy paddling for it.  I popped up and the wave just wouldn’t let me in, and I bogged out.  I was glad that I bogged out, since I immediately see Dais shooting across my peripherals.  As I looked back to my left, I see him laying the rail in the trough of the wave to bottom turn.  He continues on down the wave for a long ride.  He smiles and laughs, telling me it’s usually the other way around, where I shoot across his field of vision while he bogs out on the shoulder. 

Dais even got pushed into a wave by Matt.  I didn’t get to see it, but Matt was giving him props on it for taking it. 

Secondly, Khang:  He paddles for this wave that jacks up for him, and only him.  That was the kind of day it was today.  Just random peaks in front of the lifeguard tower.  He was able to take the wave all the way down to shore, and came back, then paddled for another wave.  I couldn't believe that he was able to catch consecutive waves.  Just like that.  Sometimes, surfing takes a little luck in where you sit, and he was sitting on the right spot.

However, he did eat it on an outside wave.  The wipe out was great!  I was egging him onto this wave, and he was paddling into it way too deep on the peak. He ditches his board, and just gets engulfed by the white water.  Surprisingly there was some oomph on these waves today.  He came up with a look of astonishment of how he got worked on such a small set wave.  I say small because compared to two weeks ago, these are easy waves. 

Thirdly, Matt:  I would say his lefts are getting better.  He was able to pump and weave over the white water sections on the waves.  On one wave, I saw him take off late but pump up and down the face, go sort of off the top (they’re not as critical as his back hand off the top snaps), and re-enter, then pump pump pump all the way to shore. 

He had this "miracle moment" towards the end of the session.  It seemed that he was just sitting at the right place at the right time, twice.  He was north of the lifeguard tower, when this sweet A frame rolls in.  He goes for the left, and just pumps all the way up and down the wave.  He looked pretty stoked after that, and while paddling out, his eyes got BIG.  Another set just rolled right through, and he caught that wave too.  Almost like a mirror image wave, this wave took him as far as the last one.  

Lastly, myself:  My most memorable wave probably came at the beginning of the session, where Matt told me to go on a right.  I was able to pump on the face, bottom turn and get a small front-side carve off the top.  I kept pumping on the wave until I was on the shore.  The best part is knowing that my friends saw me.   Dais gave me a small splash to show me how much spray he saw from the back.  Khang gave me some props, and Matt was grinning happily for me.  That one wave made my whole session.

One wave that they didn’t see was another right where I crouched low into the face, felt the wave cover me up, and stayed standing after it crashed on top of me.  I then saw the white water section and pumped around it, and bottom turned up to avoid the section all together.  I then got up on the lip, and stayed on top of it and re-entered the wave. 

A random two wave set would roll through the river jetty, and we would all watch in awe of it.  Then, our spot would get the two or three wave set.  Some of them were close outs, but some of them were nice, open faces.  These conditions weren’t epic at all, but we all had fun.  I think if I had surfed 26^th Street, all by myself, I wouldn’t have had any fun at all.  Surfing is fun, but surfing with friends is a million times more fun. 

“Damn, this is crazy, for the lack of swell, there’s some waves to be ridden!” Matt said, as another set bombed across the river jetty.  I had to agree.  It was a big surprise to get waves in the South Bay when there aren’t any waves. 

“Yea, and Klaude was all Negative Nancy about it all the way here,” Dais added.  He was right.  I was being a Debbie Downer about the whole morning’s occurrences, especially because THINGS DIDN’T OCCUR AS PLANNED.  But you know what?  What really goes “as planned” in life?  Usually nothing does.  Nothing goes ideally, step by step, as YOU planned.  And when you try to make things go as planned, things get more and more fucked up with each change you try to make so things go “according to plan.”  I wouldn’t go as far as saying just to be a casual observer, but things just happen, so just enjoy the ride.  Life is a wave, and your attitude is your board.  Life will come and go, but it’s up to you on whether or not you ride along, and then HOW your ride will be is totally up to your attitude. 

A big pod of dolphins kept going back and forth in front of us.  The brown haze of Los Angeles pollution hung over the horizon like an unhappy parent looking over her child’s homework.  The crystal clear water swayed and moved with every pulsating bump on the horizon.  Otherwise, the water stayed tranquil and peaceful. 

I have everyone to thank today:  All da boys that made the session memorable, Mother Ocean who graced us with her gifts, the pod of dolphins that frolicked with us, the Banh Mi Cali shop that we stopped by later to fuel up after three hours of surf, all of it.  Without any of them, I wouldn’t be so happy about Saturday.  Ever. 

Mahalos. 

The Tale of a Weekend Warrior 102211

Surf Report: 1-2 feet max

Water: Cold but bearable

Winds: slight on shore

Atmosphere: Cloudy

So, I woke up late on Saturday.  How late?  Well it was just one of those mornings where I actually woke up to my alarm in the morning, and went straight back to sleep.  My warm bed called and beckoned me back, as if Aphrodite herself was there with her naked bosom.  I drifted back into La-la land, sweeping through clouds of make believe and wishes of things to be…

And who was calling me at 730?  The one and only Christina.  She was already at Brookhurst. 

FUCK

I grumbled loudly and she could tell I was still in bed.  I told her I’ll be there as fast as I could.  She didn’t expect me to show up at all.

Matt was dirt biking in the middle of the desert, Khang was participating in the beer Olympics, and Dais had a late night house sitting so I was to venture to Huntington Beach all by my lonesome.

I didn’t even do my yoga warm ups this morning. 

I arrived to Brookhurst around 815.  The drive over was terribly cloudy and I blasted the heater the whole way until I was sweating through my sweatshirt.  I had to keep myself warm for the cold water…

I get changed, and head out to Brookhurst.  Christina left me a text saying that her and Apolla would paddle straight out, so I headed straight out to Brookhurst.

The waves looked like skeletons compared to last Saturday’s voluptuous foam figures rolling through.  There was barely a wake in the water, and the sets were two feet max.  Surprisingly, some of the waves stood up and wall up for a turn or two, or three.

I stretch, leash up, and paddle out.  Christina waves me down and we greet each other with an enthusiastic hug.  Apolla and I say hi, and so we three bobbed up and down in the cold waters of Huntington Beach.

Apolla got a new board:  a 7’6” as I recall, which she was generous enough to let me try for a few waves.  It took me three attempts but I managed to stand on it.  The board felt like a board for bigger, monstrous waves.  But, it was supposed to be for smaller days too.  The thing was so beefy and thick that I couldn’t really duck dive too easily (you had to really lean on the nose and push down.) 

Christina was her usual self, cheering Apolla and myself every time we paddled for a wave.  She even tried to push me into a wave whose peak was way too far from me.  Christina had some nice drops that both Apolla and I didn’t think she would make.  But after the white water explosion, we see her wide stance, crouched like a hidden tiger emerge. 

Christina and Apolla opted to leave after we surfed for about an hour together.  I said I was going to leave with them, but the waves just kept rolling in right in front of the lifeguard spot.  It wasn’t epic or all time, but to me, being in the water was so refreshing.  I look forward to Saturday every week because I’m able to surf and be in the water, surrounded by Mother Ocean.  That’s all I live and breathe for nowadays.  I surf because… I live to surf and surf to live. 

There weren’t “memorable waves” today.  I mean, yea I caught a few, and I was able to pump down the line and push the tail out once or twice on some.  But they weren’t super memorable.  These older guys were pushing backside 360’s and nice vertical off the tops on their high performance shortboards.  But even they came up to me and said that I had the board of choice for today. 

I wish they hadn’t said that, because right on queue, the ocean went flat.  They were sitting, I was sitting, we were all just sitting.  Waves would form and evaporate through the line up, and we were left standing on the shallow waters of the shore pound with our balls in our hands, hoping to get a fondling from Mother Ocean.

I started to get cold.  I didn’t wear a watch today, for I wanted to surf until my heart was content knowing that there won’t be waves on Sunday.  I wanted to take advantage of today.  But it was getting hard with my fingers growing numb and my back shivering from the lack of movement.  So, I did what Rick would do:  I paddled to the next lifeguard station.

Now, paddling to the next life guard station isn’t a big feat, but in HB, the open ocean current usually pulls people left and right, so it was sort of a challenge.  I paddled passed the older guys who rip, a girl in a bikini bottom (immediately emasculating me and anyone else wearing a full suit) and some people trying to learn on shortboards.  I caught a wave on the way over to the next lifeguard station, and when I finally made it to the next lifeguard station, I started to paddle back.

I caught my last wave in, and I was finished.  I was content.  I was happy that I got to surf, even if it was two feet max.  I surfed for about three hours.  I live to surf, and surf to live.  I wouldn’t feel alive if I didn’t get wet today.

I met up Rick, and he finished my ALOHA board (now there’s only an OHA left.)  He did a magnificent job with the repair.  It is better than any paid repair job I have ever seen or dealt with.  So, Rick, thank you and a big mahalos to you and your family.

Tokotsu done RIGHT

I also went to Mitsuwa for lunch afterwards.  The Udon place was doing a special promotion with a ramen place called Tsujita Ramen, which actually took over a local block where I grew up, on the beloved corner of Sawtelle.  Tsujita Ramen had a special engagement and served tonkotsu ramen, which is literally “pork bone broth” ramen.  This tonkotsu is native to my parents hometown of Kyuushuu, the southern most island.  It is by far my most favorite type of ramen.  However, no one in the States is able to replicate the flavor:  the pork’s smooth and silky taste, and the refreshing after taste.  Santouka, also located in Mitsuwa, is the closest, but their broth is too oily, albeit the taste is amazing.  So, I paid for my ramen, and looked at it.  The oil looked good, and the soup looked clear.  The smell was unmistakably from home.  I had to stand and eat because there was a shortage of chairs, and I devoured that bowl in a matter of minutes.  My stamp of approval is proudly embossed onto their ramen bowls.  I later thanked them for a delicious meal, since it TRULY is hard to find good tonkotsu ramen in the States.  I’ve tried a lot of them over here, but Tsujita Ramen GOT IT RIGHT. 

Mahalos Mother Ocean for letting me live.  You make me feel alive.  You let me feel that sitting at a desk job for forty hours a week is bearable and worth it.  

The Aloha Spirit 101511

Surf Report: 4-5 feet

Winds: Off shore to on shore in a heart beat

Atmosphere: Sunny

Water: Cold

I slept over Matt’s house, engulfing mounds of taquitos, papusas, and chocolate brownies with ice cream, while watching scenes from Innersection and Lost Atlas.  Lost Atlas was… weird.  It had more acoustic music than Kai Neville’s last film, Modern Collective.  The surfing was great, and the interviews/talks were awesome too.  I probably have to watch it a few more times to fully appreciate this surf porn.  I would give it 7.5 stars out of 10. 

So, we go to sleep at 1230.  Matt, like the champion he is, is able to sleep four hours and charge dawn patrol… me, I’m an old man, and I need my continuous six hours of sleep at least to charge on a Saturday morning.  

I slept on Matt’s comfortable couch, but moved to the floor.  I tried to sleep on the floor, but the light penetrated the window, so I had to move back to the couch.  I removed the pillows and discovered his couch is HUGE.  Next time… next time…

I woke up to Matt hanging over me with the lamp in the living room on.  It was already past 630… shit.

We make our way down to his car and start packing up all my stuff into his car and take off north.  Rick and Manny let us know how Oxnard was breaking, and they said it was no good.  Too much shore pound, too much water (and, it’s only low tide.)  They opt to surf Malizoo.

We check 26^th Street and the place looks dismal.  We see Mikey there with his big iron jaw and gorgeous smile that is chiseled out of marble, along with a few of the other local guys we see all the time.  We chit chat, and decide to leave this spot.  I let Dais, Khang, and Tom Yam know what’s up with 26^th Street.

Tom Yam said he was checking out Torrance beach as we made our way on to the 405 South.  Matt suggested we even go down to San Onofre.  It was a day off for me, so I was willing to go anywhere for surf, but my mind was telling me to take a nap.  I couldn’t… I was sitting shot gun!

Dais and Khang wanted to head to Newport, but we convinced them to stick by Brookhurst.  Matt and I arrive at Brookhurst and tell them both where we parked.  We get changed and head down to the beach.

Matt see’s white water exploding on the sand, but I couldn’t see much.  He looks amped and stoked.  I for one, was tired still.  I tried to keep my energy level up, but my mind was telling me otherwise.  This reminded me of the time in Trestles where I couldn’t get a lick of sleep and we surfed five footers at Middles. 

Boy, was my mental state in the gutter.

Matt paddles out and immediately catches a right.  He hacks off the top, throwing out spray.  He cuts back, and while he does this, I go for a right.  I grab on to the wall with my trailing hand and eat it.  Matt looks happy. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” I asked.

After a few minutes, we see ourselves drifting halfway to the next lifeguard station.  Holy crap, the current was strong!!  We had to paddle back.  A rogue set appears, and I get caught on the inside.  I get tossed and turned and let go, only to see a few more bombers roll through.  They weren’t gnarly hold downs by any standards, but they were surely Mother Ocean’s way of telling me “You’re not welcomed here today.”

I was expecting a session like this today, not just because of the lack of sleep, but because I’ve been scoring some fun, mushy waves in the South Bay.  Huntington is a more high performance wave, and with higher performance, comes higher probability of eating shit.  After what seemed like an endless paddle to catch up to Matt, I found myself still half way to the other lifeguard tower.  Matt waves me down, pointing to shore.  Dais and Khang have arrived…

I sit.  I wait.  I eat it on the inside.  I lose sight of Matt. 

“Take a nap, god damnit,” my mind says. 

My joints were hurting, my mind was slow and sluggish, and my reaction time was totally off on even the minute task of duck diving.  So, I paddle in, set up my board to create a shade, and sleep. 

I think I kept my eyes closed and breathed for a good twenty minutes.  Flies that were munching away on the seaweed right by me started to land on my face, but that really didn’t bother me.  I just wanted to sleep.

I woke up, and found that the waves are crumbling from on shore winds.  Just like that, those barreling sections that we arrived to had disappeared like a redneck at a hoe down, and I was all alone.

I walked up to the 3^rd lifeguard station because Matt would always be position where he said he would be.  Today was an exception.

I paddled out, tried to get a wave or two, ate it, and paddled back in.  I walked back to 3^rd, paddled back out, did the same, came back in.  This continued for about six rounds.

One wave that I caught was an outsider which I was able to easily paddle into.  I didn’t have to grab rail or anything to make the drop, and was able to do a small pump before dropping in to the bottom of the wave.  The wave closed out behind me, but I couldn’t make it around the white water section as I would have liked to.  I was still super stoked to finally catch a wave of consequence and make it out alive.

The board for the surfer I want to be finally rode a wave that it was made for.  The only problem was the surfer wasn’t the surfer he wanted to be. 

I got tired after six rounds of running back and forth between tower 4 and tower 3.  I grew increasingly alone, with no one to really talk to, since people were getting washed around constantly.  I was almost ran over by two guys who popped airs after dodging around me.  Oh, HB, how high performance you are…

I walked back to the car in hopes of Matt being there to no avail.  I walked back, paddled back out, and got sent home by the white wash.

“You’re not welcomed here,” she roared at me.

I sat on the beach, beaten and battered, but surprisingly, no ego hurt.  Perhaps there wasn’t an ego to hurt at this point. 

I then see Dais, Khang and Matt walking towards me.  It was the most welcoming sight of the morning.  We reconvene and talk story about the mornings happening.  I was the struggler, Dais was the wiper, Khang was the snake, and Matt finally got his wish of riding a fast left. 

We all departed at the street parking on Brookhurst, and Matt and I made our way to the freeway.  I wasn’t really bummed at all for this day, since I knew why I didn’t surf well.  I needed some sleep!  But now, my stomach grumbled… even after all those taquitos, papusas and chocolate brownie with ice cream, my body craved nourishment.

We stop in at Bob’s Hawaiian Okazuya, a spot in Gardena.  The vibe there was amazing, with all these Hawaiians eating lunch, with a take out spot with beef curry, chili, banana leaf rice, beef stew, and the like in heat sinks.  A live Hawaiian band started to play on their ukulele and slack key guitar.

The food was great!  The Ahi poke was a bit expensive for the portion, but it tasted great.  The chicken katsu was perfect, the chow mein was amazingly tasty, the mac salad was normal (I’m not a big fan of mayo) but the nori-maki fried chicken was bland.  Maybe it was meant to be served by itself.  But everything else seemed so powerful and tasty that the fried chicken was just… bland. 

I then see a short, large Hawaiian woman with an angry look on her face.  I’ve seen this face before.  We’re in trouble!  She had the angry look of an Aunty that you broke something valuable and hid in the back yard of her house, only for her to dig it up while planting some tomatoes.  My heart skipped a beat.  Turns out this lady was Cynthia, an old co-worker of Matt’s from Honda.  She was here with her husband, Paul, and their son who I forgot his name.  They were just back from a soccer game where their son’s team had won, 2-0.  We all talked like we’ve known each other for years, and after a few minutes, we departed. 

I was stoked for this whole day.  Not even eating shit multiple times at HB would bring me down.  The journey we took and the people we met today were amazing.  It definitely reminded me of the day we met Clay Marzo.  Just everything seemed to fall into place.  My belly was full (or half way full) and we headed back to Matt’s house to watch The Forgotten Coast.  We (again) engulfed Ghiradelli chocolate brownie topped off with ice cream.  Hell, if you’re indulging, might as well go balls deep, right?  No need in just eating half ass. 

Mahalos Mother Ocean for a valuable lesson in the importance of sleep (once again) and a big Mahalos to Matt for letting me crash at his pad. The Aloha Spirit is alive and well. 

Huntington Paddle Battle 061811

Surf Report: 3-5 feet and mushy

Atmosphere: Sunny

Winds: slight on shore

Water: Cool (too hot for a 4/3)

SATURDAY! IT’S SATURDAYYYYY!!

I always look forward to Saturday surf sessions… but usually get skunked.  Hahahaha

Today, I picked up Nicky, Kai, and Dais to join up Khang and DK at Porto.  When we arrived to Porto around 730, the waves looked dismal at best.  It was just another typical SoCal day, with the high tide filling in quickly.  The waves mooshed out throughout the line up, and we waited and watched for a while.  I even skated down to 26^th Street (about twenty blocks) and everything looked the same.  26^th Street was less crowded but it was definitely a day for a big board. 

I decided to drive down to Huntington Beach so we could score some waves.  I hoped that the SW swell would be hitting HB nicely, and that we could make the window of opportunity to ride some decent waves.

When we got to HB, it was about 0900, and we stared out from our car to Goldenwest.  The peaks came in consistently, and there were a lot of surfers tearing it up on some nice 3-4 foot waves.  The winds were still slightly off shore, and the lip looked pretty mooshy.  Well, if we were going to go surf, now will be the time.  I scrambled to find parking in the residential area and scored one right by our “old house” where we spend many a nights in the car to surf HB.  We three got changed as Kai went back to sleep and be lazy.

We paddled out in front of the light blue tower, but by the time we got to the line up, we were half way over to the dark blue tower.  The current at HB is always strong… Nicky and I have drifted three towers before getting to the line up on numerous occasions when a solid SW swell was hitting HB.  Today wasn’t a solid day at HB, but the current was strong.  I kept repeating in my head that if I ever even fathom about taking my game to somewhere like Hawaii (again) or Bali like Matt, I need to get my paddling power on another level.  I am proud to say I didn’t get out of the water once to walk back and paddle out again this session.

My first wave was a small left where I grabbed my rail and dragged my butt on the face.  It wasn’t all that exciting, especially since I ate it half way down the face.  I can tell my grab rail technique has improved somewhat, but this wave should have been caught without grabbing the rail.

Dais and Nicky were bobbing up and down, waiting for the sets to come in.  I kept paddling to maintain position, and before I knew it, I lost sight of Nicky.  Dais kept up for a good half of the session, but he eventually drifted out of sight, only to reappear like a ninja in the water. 

I hear a contest horn go off and see that some small contest was going on towards Goldenwest with lifeguards on duty, using their megaphone.  I kept paddling towards the light blue tower. 

I took Pab’s advice and started to time the sets coming in, especially since these SW swells have such long lulls in between sets.  I figured that the ones that came in between the sets looked rideable but were unrideable.  They all mushed out and bogged out on us, and we left with blue balls between our legs.  And then the rogue set would appear after about five misleading waves, and clean out the whole line up.  I figured out that about every twenty minutes or so these rogue sets would come.  Not only that, the first wave was the only decent wave, and that the following two waves in the set were close outs and had questionable shape. 

So, I waited.  I waited singing to myself.  I waited controlling my breathing, and waited even more.  A lot of other surfers were scratching out on the misleading waves, and I patiently waited, paddling further south to fight the current continuously.  I think I spent about 80% of this session just paddling against the current. 

I heard in the distance, “Hey, you surfers out there, paddle south or paddle north, but get out of the contest area!” from the lifeguard truck’s megaphone.  Uh oh, better get out of the way.  I kept paddling further south to combat the current.  Other surfers followed and paddled south to get out of the way. 

I grew frustrated.  Did my judgment misguide me?  Was I not sitting in the right place?  Did we get SKUNKED, yet again??  I started to paddle a little bit in, when I see other surfers furiously paddle towards me.  What do they see? 

I look back, and there was the rogue clean up wave.  I started to gun for the shore, doing my alligator wiggle and kicking my feet as I paddled for this left.  I caught it right on the peak, unadultered and uninterrupted by anyone in the line up.  I slid down the left without grabbing rail and made the drop down a clean, azure wave face.  The face bogged out as I redirected to the white wash, but it was too late, and I fell off on the inside from losing all my speed.  I see behind me the second and third wave crashing and engulfing everything in sight with no riders on them. 

I kept paddling out, away from the contest and away from the dark blue lifeguard tower.  Just then, Dais snuck up on me and we regrouped.  He said that he’s only caught two waves this whole time, and that he was called out by the lifeguard people to get out of the contest area. 

I too was only able to catch two waves today.  Apparently, Nicky caught a lot of lefts today.  Go figure.  He and his fish going left are unstoppable.  Both Dais and Nicky took the current all the way north, where they were asked politely to leave the contest area.  They then drifted even further, got out, walked up to the lifeguard tower where we started from. 

I kept paddling further south to fight the current, but I couldn’t position myself for any waves like I did before.  My patience was wearing thin, and I grew increasingly frustrated with myself.  Dais drifted again out of sight, so I was left all alone. 

I started seeing more surfers on the inside taking these short rides on the shore pound.  I decided to give it a go, and caught one or two waves that were not memorable but in fact, quite dangerous.  I decided to get out and start body surfing. 

I body surfed a lot of waves and made some crazy drops, but I drifted down north again.  So I got out, said hi to a nice bodied Asian girl with a meh face, and went out to body surf more.  I drifted north again, so I got out, said hi to her again, and body surfed some more. 

I went back to the car, but Kai was gone.  I was tired, but I couldn’t do anything about Kai not being there, so I went back to the beach to body surf some more.  As I made another round from lifeguard tower to tower, I sat on the sand and rested.  I rinsed off my board to go back to the car when ninja Dais snuck up on me again.  We both recounted our waves and fighting the current, and decided this was a better call than Porto, but we should have come here straight.  Another time. 

Kai and Nicky were already back at the car, changed and riding skateboards.  We all shot the shit and went to the Taco place right by the pier and ate some delicious tacos there.  We then drove to Lee’s to pick up some sandwiches, and headed home. 

We didn’t surf our brains out, and we weren’t stoked from head to toe, but it was a nice day to be out in the water, Just Enjoying The Surf. 

Mahalo Mother Ocean.