Wall Barrels 092014

Surf Report: 2-4 feet
Water: Still Warm
Atmosphere: Cloudy with some sun shining through eventually
Winds: Slight offshore

Matt and Randy said they will paddle out today. EARLY. So I wanted to be on the early train too. However, I've been having trouble sleeping as of late, and I couldn't wake up early enough. Kenny was to join us too, but I told him I had to leave early because I had to coach early today.

So I get to the beach, and it's fucking PACKED. It was nut to butt, elbow to elbow packed. There was not a single square foot of space that wasn't occupied by a surfer today. And for good reason too: There are waves! A lot of them were close outs, but there were some waves to be ridden. Ross parked when I arrived, and darted towards the beach.

I took out my Fred Rubble today. My board that I rode mostly in Mexico. I feel very comfortable riding that board in punchy beach breaks. As I paddled out, I saw all of the locals that are usually there: Gene, Orlando, Jose, George, Oscar, Bruce, Joe, and countless others. I also saw a lot of fresh faces, newbies, and unfamiliar groms in the line up too. Where do all of these people come from?

Jerry (?) the stocky Philipino dude that wears a Rasta jacket, takes off on a left. He bottom turns and packs the barrel. It's a close out, but he has his balls to the walls, and I hoot him. He comes up smiling, a little shaken, but smiling. 

The locals call me into a wave. Immediately, I paddle for the wave, and start pumping on the face.  I don't get any turns, but I can see the wave throw out further down the line. I can't make it, but hey, not too shabby for a warm up wave.

In the far distance, I see a style that I know. He does a backhand carve, re-enters, and tries to do another turn but stalls. It's Matt. I have to go say hi. So, I paddle over to him.  We give each other man hugs, and I sit where he was sitting. There are too many longboarders to compete with by the Brick House. Plus, I need to surf with Kenny. Where is he? I opt to paddle back where I sat. "Use your local card!" I said to Matt. He paddles over to where I am, but he thought the same thing I did with his spot: "Too many longboarders, I need to surf with my brother." And so, he paddles back.

I had two stand out waves this day. One was a right where I consciously pumped the high line to be able to pull in to the barrel. I pumped twice quickly, and then crouched. I can HEAR the wave splashing over my body. And then for a split second, I had that glass room view. And the next second, my board gets kicked out from my feet, and I can feel the board flip fins side up. I fall and land on my fins. It HURTS. I get tossed over, and writhe in pain. I resurface, check my board, and see that it is still in one piece. Phew, I thought.

I paddle back out, and sit for another wave. Water starts to trickle into my springsuit. Crap... a hole. I know it. I fingered the hole near my ass, and sure enough, there's a nice gouge there where I got finned.

"It's a day of wall barrels!" Ross yells at me. "No turns today!"

I keep pumping as fast as I could on each wave, and pull into the barrel. I am unsuccessful on all of my attempts, but it feels good to be improving. I don't think I've pumped so quickly down the line off the take off like I did today.

Kenny shows up, and he waves at me from shore. I wave back, pointing at the board I left for him on the sand. He leashes up, and I see him paddle out.

I watch the locals take off on throaty lefts. We hoot each other into waves, and laugh if someone gets burned.

I see a small left form near me. I paddle to meet it, then flip around. It's small, but I now it will jack up and form a hollow wave. I pig dog it, and Kim is on the shoulder. She yells, "GO Klaude!" and paddles over the wave. I'm trying to keep the high line as long as possible, but when the wave looks like it's closing out, I let go of my rail, and straighten out. I'm still a newb. I should just stay in the pocket and pull in till I get gobbled up.

I finally see Kenny. "Dude, it took me half an hour to paddle out. These waves are just so gnarly!" he says.

"Yup, we've all been there. It's part of it," I smile. One thing's for sure: Kenny isn't a person who gives up.

There was a group of three, two guys, one girl, sitting closely. I start paddling for one wave, and buzz cut Mohawk guy drops in on me. I pump after him, but lose speed and bail out. He looks behind him after he eats it, and doesn't even apologize. Inside my head, I am angry as fuck. I want to yell at him. I want to tell him he's a kook. I want to throw chingaso's at this motherfucker for dropping in on me. But that all deflates. It's not me. It's not even worth it. It was a small wave, and it closed out. We're not at Pipe. We're at 26th Street. We keep the aloha alive here.

I paddle for another wave, and Mohawk's friend paddles for the left. He takes off cleanly, and I pull out. He takes the wave pretty far, and I wait for him to get back into line up.

"Hey, sorry for knocking off the top of the wave," I tell him.

Stunned, he looks at me. "What?"

"I said, sorry for knocking off the top of your wave."

He's dumbfounded. "Oh, no, it's ok," he says with a smile.

I paddle for a set wave. It's all mine. But at the last second, I see Mohawk in my way on the inside. I have to bail my board and get tossed. He dives deep under on the inside as I go over the falls. I grab my leash and yank it as hard as possible. We both resurface.

"Dude, sorry about that," I tell him. "You ok? Board ok?"

"Uh, yea, I'm fine. Thanks," he says, stupefied that I'm the one apologizing.

Kill them with Aloha. Be kind. Be humble. This is everyone's playground.

Kenny is able to take off on two waves. Well, he paddles and eats shit, but he attempts to catch some waves. He's still stoked too.

"DUDE did you see that??" he asks me after a wave which gobbles him up.

"Yea, I did! That was sick," I tell him.

"Oh man, this is so addicting!" he said.

I think we may have a new DRC member in the making.

Mahalos Mother Ocean!