Wake Up It's Tha First of Tha Month 090111

Surf Report: 4-6 feet head high + on some

Water: Warm

Winds: Strong off shores to textured trade winds

Atmosphere: Gloomy

I woke up a little before 0500.  Yes, on a Thursday, I woke up before the butt crack of dawn.  Today was the arrival of the swell that we have all been waiting for.  We watched it form off of New Zealand as it travel to Tahiti where the ASP pro’s were catching huge surf, even towing in to the waves on one day.  Then onwards to the South Shore of the Hawaiian islands, where it produced “the best swell in 10 years.”  Now, when a place like Ala Moana bowls is touted as having the best swell in 10 years, they aren’t joking.  Even the buoy broke because of the waves.  And now it arrived in to SoCal.  I had to be on this wave.  This is what I have been waiting for.

I had all my stuff packed from last night, so all I had to do was get up, warm up, eat some breakfast, and take my lunch with me.  I was out of the door and into my car by 515. 

That's SM Pier.  Can't see a thing!

The drive was speedy, yet I saw a lot of cars heading down on the 10 West.  Could these all be surfers?  No, no way.  It can’t be.

I was to meet Dave at Sunset beach for a dawn patrol, but I doubted he came out this early.  When I arrived at the bend to see Sunset, I saw a row of cars already lined up along the shoulder.  I gazed out my drivers side window to see car after car after car.  There was a line to U-turn at the Sunset Boulevard light, and I was lucky enough to catch an opening to beat at least ten cars ahead of me on the light.  I swooped around and got the closest parking spot near the Gladstones parking lot exit.  For all I know, that was the second spot available, and there were at least a few more spots behind me.  I put my car in park, and I open the door to see a line of cars already parked behind me, like a bad cartoon where the line forms instantaneously behind you.

I couldn’t believe my eyes.  The whole shoulder on PCH was now full.

The winds were howling cold as I walked to see the Point.  It was so dark none of us could see any waves.  I retreated back to the warmth of my wind blocking car, and saw Bryan had posted on facebook that he was heading over.  I told him that there are no more parking spaces.  He eventually parked across the street.

As I got changed, the sun started to peak through the thick clouds over the mountains.  We could sort of make out the line up now.  I locked my car and headed out. 

The water was warm.  It felt like liquid air as my hands glided through with each stroke.  I noticed the longboarders drifting further south as they paddled out.  I tried to fight the current, but the more I fought, the more I got pounded.  Eventually I paddled around the impact zone and out into the line up.  Bryan was right by me as I paddled out into the line up, but that was all I saw of him.  I continued up to the point while he stayed around the second point, north of Dos Banos. 

The line up was almost empty when I started paddling out to the line up.  By the time I got to the Point, there were twenty heads in my area, and thirty heads around Second point.  By the time the first set arrived, there were forty heads on the Point and even more down the line.  I was overwhelmed with the crowd already…

Multiply this by 4, and that's the crowd factor for today

I’m going to be honest:  I went for about five or six waves, and I made none of them.  They were all close outs, or I just couldn’t penetrate them and got pitched over the falls.

First one I went for, I got pitched over.  It was a “warm up wave” since I saw a guy take the first wave of the inside set, and so I tried for the second wave.  The wave pitched as I didn’t get to my feet in time and got thrown over.  I was washed a little closer in. 

Second one I went for was immediately afterwards.  I tried to take another insider but ended up taking that too deep and got thrown off even faster.  I felt like a rodeo clown being tossed around by a bull.  While I was under the water, I felt a strange calmness that I didn’t have while driving here, waiting in the line up, and paddling for a wave.  I felt most peaceful down under water as the wave thrashed me around left and right. 

Third one I went for was a close out.  I had to go for it because I missed a set wave that people backed out for me on.  This older dude and younger dude both backed out as I paddled for the wave, but I couldn’t get in.  maybe it was my take off angle, or my lack of power?  Whatever it was, it made me lose my place in the line up, and I took a “punishment” close out for letting the last one go.  This one I couldn’t take a breath before I hit the water, so I was deprived of oxygen.  However, I felt at ease inside the dark, gloomy waters of Sunset, deprived of oxygen.  It wasn’t a gnarly wipe out or anything, and I just let the wave jostle me and toss me around until She let me go.  Then I came up for air. 

I had to paddle around the impact zone to get back out.  There was no way of punching through the impact zone today.  One of the surfers looked out at Boneyards as a wave shaped a square, hollow box.  I think he wanted to go there, but it didn’t look makeable just yet with the low tide. 

I started talking to people.  Actually, they started talking to me.  This older lady in full white hair was on her longboard, telling me how hard it was to catch waves today.  She complained and complained about how hard it was today.  I told her to roll with the punches, and stop being a Debby Downer.  She laughed and paddled for a wave where she almost got a hair cut from some guy already on it.

An Asian dude by the name of Peter mumbled something to me. 

“What?”

“I hate this place, too many noobs,” he grumbled.

“You mean too many people?”

“No, too many noobs,” he grumbled.

“Where do you usually surf then?” I inquired.

“Topanga,” he replied.

I waited and waited and waited.  Still no ride under my belt.  I knew I could catch these waves, I just had to be in position for them, I told myself. 

“Shark!” a few surfers yelled.  I guess there was a shark… I didn’t see it, so I didn’t believe it. 

I kept telling myself that this is good, that I’m in the water, paddling around in my comfortable suit.  It sure beats not surfing, I said.  You’ll get yours.  You still have an hour left.

The sets came through the Point, but they were all walled up.  I grew desperate. 

The sets that walled up at the Point peeled cleaner on the inside where Bryan was sitting when I first lost sight of him.  I didn’t bother to venture over there though.  I just sat north of the pack, ahead of them, and watched the horizon. 

A SUPer.  All the way from the Point

I went for two close outs after this, and didn’t make it to the face on either.  I had surfed two solid hours from 600 to 800 without catching a single wave.  I wasn’t unhappy about being out in the water, but I was numb.  I was numb that I had woken up so early and had looked forward to a swell like today for so long and couldn’t capitalize.  I just wanted to have a two wave hold down so that I would feel something that told me I was still alive instead of some zombie in the crowd. 

I wanted to make up for this session by surfing another two hours, but I had to get to work.  I came.  I saw.  I was conquered.  

As I got changed, I saw Khang and Pete pull up.  I gave them my story, and they said they will paddle out by the Stairs.  That was probably a good idea.  I wished them luck as they hunted for parking.  So, I didn't see Bryan return to his car parked across the street.  And, I got a text from David that he had parked far away and that he hoped to see me in the water.  I called Khang to tell him that Dave was out there too, and I left my premium parking spot as I pulled out in my van, dressed for work. 

What was today’s antagonist?  The crowd factor?  My own mental incapacity?  The Ocean’s raw power?  A mirage of a shark?  Whatever it was, I will have to deal with them again on Saturday, since it is the Labor Day Weekend, and the swell is supposed to last all weekend long. 

And still riding it... good 15 sec ride!

Mahalos Mother Ocean.  You punch lessons into my gut, even after rolling through across the whole Pacific Ocean.  RESPECT.