Water: Cool
Winds: Offshore
Atmosphere: Sunny
Big, thumpy day, and of course, it's dumping. I would have suspected the weekend crowd to be thinned out today, but the line up is completely empty. Maybe a lot of people went north or south. Just not here. Here, it's closing out, it's gnarly, and it's unforgiving.
The locals are all watching it. Jose, Big Jon, Robert... They're all watching the line up. The horizon is tinged with the LA smog, while the lines from the sets march in to the shore. There is barely anyone out. I watch as the other guys ohhh and ahhh at the white wash explodes on the shore, sending up a catastrophic tower up into the air.
Well, it doesn't look that bad. Apparently, the sets were bigger earlier in the morning. The swell is diminishing quickly... maybe too quickly. I turn around and head for my car.
"You heading out, Klaude?" asks Jose.
"Yep! Can't catch barrels from the parking lot," I say.
"Show us how it's done!" Robert says.
I paddle out, and discover my paddling muscles are a little weak. I'm not happy with that. I puff my cheeks and paddle harder, much like I did in Mexico. The paddle out wasn't so bad, and neither is the drift. I get to the outside, and start paddling towards my spot. It's pretty quiet in the line up... the lulls are long, and the atmosphere is tranquil.
First wave I grab is a right, and I pull in to the close out. I close my eyes out of fear, and hear the sounds around me... The water churning, the hollowness of the wave... and I eat it. I get sent down and tumble. It wasn't so bad. I was mad though. Mad at myself for closing my eyes. Mad at still being fearful of opening my eyes.
I tell myself, keep your eyes open KK.
Second wave I catch, I keep my eyes open. I see the crystal ceiling chandeleiring over me. The wave closes out, of course, but I keep my line and stay crouched with my eyes wide open. I can still see the sunlight piercing through the glassy room as I feel my board being taken out from under my feet. I tumble and fall into the abyss.
The sets are about 2 feet overhead when I started, but they are diminishing quickly. I have never seen wave heights diminish so quickly at Manhattan Beach. Maybe it's the tide? The swell angle? The swell period? Whatever it is, it's making the conditions less challenging, and more people start to come out.
None of my friends are out today... not even the locals. There are no more peanut gallery locals with their binoculars at the parking lot.
I go for a few more waves, but they are all closing out. I'm getting tired of getting close outs. I start talking to a guy named Ryan. He is charging hard, and I befriend him in hopes of charging hard too. We trade close outs for the next half hour.
My last wave is a right. It's about five feet on the face, and I start pumping from the lifeguard tower. I pump and pump and pump, racing each section. The face starts to get choppy and marshmallows start to spot the wave face. The marshmallows turn into marbled vanilla, and the face is no longer blue but brown. I keep pumping, trying to beat the sections. Finally, the wave closes out, and I look back to where I am. I'm in front of the dark yellow house.
I think to myself... I could paddle back out... But then again, am I getting a long ride like that? Probably not. It's best if I just cash my chips out right meow and head home.
The sets are now a generous six feet... A full two feet smaller than when I started. I only surfed an hour and a half, but I am happy to get one long ride. No turns, but I kept my eyes open in the barrel. Slowly improving...
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| As Patricio would tell me, "JUST GO!!" |
Mahalos Mother Ocean!!
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