A Bromantic Saturday Part 2 - 110511

Surf Report:  3 – 5 foot

Water: Cool

Winds: Strong off shores

Atmosphere: Sunny and clear skies

We actually got to park one spot over once we returned to Churches after eating.  We looked at Churches while talking to Rick on speakerphone, and he was filling us in on the report at El Porto: clean, epic, off shore, and super fun.  Damn, did we make the wrong call AGAIN??

Just then, we see a four wave set pump through Churches, with the off shore waves just blowing the face to stand up for a long ride into shore.  The tide was lower, with the rocks finally exposed to show us why the waves here are groomed and clean. 

We get out and discuss the plan.  Matt didn’t want to surf Churches again, especially with the crowd.  So, we decide on BP’s.  We hoped to score there earlier in the day, but it wasn’t doing it’s thing at all. 

Churches, Firing and Perfect but Crowded

A girl named Sam and I talk for a bit.  She was telling us how she is from LA and drove all the way down here to surf.  She hated the crowds at Porto and the overall wave quality up in LA, so she comes down here to surf as much as possible.  We give her props for coming down all by herself to surf down here.  The only person crazy enough to come down here by themselves is probably Matt and Francis.  We exchange numbers and hope to surf together back in LA when it gets good.

Matt and I go down to BP’s and watch the waves as we digested our food.  Surprisingly, no one was out at BP’s.  Maybe a longboarder would take a ride all the way to our position, but he would paddle straight back to his spot, and keep BP’s open.  The sun was baking us, and the winds were still howling off shore. 

The food in our stomachs couldn’t digest quickly enough. 

I said fuck it, and started to warm up to paddle out.  Matt and I walked out to the cobblestones and made our way out to the line up.

This session reminded me of a combination of a few sessions:  that one day that Dais, Matt and I went to the secret spot, got skunked, and came back to San Onofre to score an empty line up, all to ourselves.  That one day that we had our last camping trip, and the surf was unruly and pumping, with the water swirling around us entailed with the constant paddling just to maintain position.

Today combined an empty line up with some gnarly, five footers rolling through the line up.  To catch the waves was a lot of work, and the waves would be so clean, we would get nice, long rides.  Then the paddle back out was a lot of work too. 

First ride of our afternoon session, I see Matt take off on a left.  I am right in front of him as he drops in on the cloud breaking section.  His stance is compressed, and the sun gleams through the green wall of water.  He has his trailing left hand on the face of the wave, then lets go of her beautiful façade.  The wave takes off with him as he flies down the line, pumping and carving.  He goes and goes and goes.  My heart pumps and beats and thuds.  He comes back with a huge grin on face.  I make two L’s with my right and left hands, connect the thumb to the index fingers, and make a camera frame.  It was a photogenic scene from catching the wave to coming back to the line up.

For the next… however many minutes, we have this place to ourselves.  I was going right, Matt was going left.  We both trade waves like there is no tomorrow.  I’m not sure how many waves we caught during this time, but it sure was fun.  The waves were definitely bigger than what they looked like from shore, and they were powerful.  They weren’t the usual casual, slow rolling waves of Trestles.  They were pitchy, punchy, and at times pretty darn critical. 

We must have sold the spot to spectators.  A few surfers showed up in the line up and started to surf with us.  Out of these few surfers, I have to spit a verse of woe to the blue longboard dude, and the old balding guy.

The blue longboard dude wasn’t a bad surfer, but he was definitely a guy that didn’t look both ways.  I saw Matt paddle for another clean left.  He was right on the peak, and I hooted and whistled him into the wave.  He takes off perfectly, and then I see the blue board dude just take off right in front of him.  I had to duck dive the wave, but once I resurfaced and looked back at the wave, I saw the blue board guy exiting the wave, and Matt somewhere behind him.  He got burned on that wave so badly, and the blue board guy ruined the whole wave.  I make believed throwing purple fire urchins at his face for doing that.

The old balding dude reminded me of Rick.  However, he was someone that I couldn’t cheer on while surfing.  He just caught every single fucking wave.  He would paddle for them and pop up like nothing, and tear the shit out of the waves.  However, the overall vibe changed after his fourth consecutive wave.  The grom in a green wetsuit and I looked at each other with raised eye brows, signaling the universal, “REALLY?” look. 

I really wanted to drop in on him.  But man he fucking rips.  I didn’t want to upset “the establishment.”  So, I did what I did best: surf.  I sat deeper than him, fought for position, and got to hoot him off two of my waves.  Yes, that means he dropped in on me on two waves, but I still was able to make him notice me.  After that, he gave me my space and surfed a little further down the line.

Still Firing, But On Shore Winds

Matt made his way further up towards Middles and Lowers, trying to find peaks to himself.  I saw him take off on a few rights and threw him double shakas for the turns he did.  He was hunting down the lefts that would roll through there.  It was definitely less crowded, but the peak where I was at was working better.

Eventually, all the paddling and duck diving the thick Zippi fish would take it’s toll on my arms.  My left and right triceps above my elbows started to cramp on each paddle.  My duck dive cramped up both my triceps too.  And when I popped up, I wouldn’t get a full pop up and just eat it.  It was a sign for me to get out after the third time I messed up on popping up.  My arms were dead tired, and I was making mistakes that I shouldn’t have been making, and I was exposing myself to harms way by staying out more and more. 

It was just so hard to leave, but I had to get out.  The winds were still off shore, the waves were still pumping through and the sun was still shining. 

I had a lot of memorable waves today, but I think the best one was where Matt paddled over me to get to the left and told me to go right.  The take off was so smooth, but the wave just jacked up as I made my bottom turn.  I laid down a cut back, re-entered the wave, then made another cut back.  I finally bogged out on the inside, and saw Matt had taken the wave pretty damn far too.  I was so stoked to be able to share that wave with him.  It was a wave that made my day because I got to split it with Matt.  I couldn’t have asked a better day to have a bromantic broment with him. 

We got changed and sat in the car for a moment to take the whole moment in.  We made the gamble to come down to San Onofre, and we scored.  We just got so many waves, and so many poundings, it was amazing.  My arms, chest, and back burned from over-working them, but I was glad I gave 110% of my energy.  It sure paid off. 

Good Bye San O - A Hui Hou

We made our way back home and arrived back in El Segundo at 1830 PM.  We’ve been together for over 13 hours.  Now, if that ain’t bromantic, I don’t know what is. 

Mahalos to Mother Ocean for pumping some surf our way, and of course to Matt for always charging.  If he didn’t make that drive, I would have never felt as accomplished on a Saturday as I did that day.