Surf In Paradise, Pabs (1964 - 2013)

I got a text from Surfing Grandma that one of our fellow bloggers, Pabs, had past away.  I never met the guy in person, but I felt that I knew him through his blog.  His blog was genuine and always STOKED when he hit the water. 

A few months ago, he felt a POP in his lower left chest area.  The fellow bloggers left him encouraging comments to stay positive, and that injuries will heal. 

Fast forward to a few days ago, and his close friend posts a reply on his blog that he had past away.  I was in shock and couldn't really process the fact that Pabs had passed away.  Is it weird that I feel like I lost a friend, even if I hadn't met him once?  I suppose that is why we surfers call it a "surf community."  No matter where you come from, or no matter what you do besides surf, we are all connected by surf, by Mother Ocean, and by the overall feeling of the STOKE. 

Pabs always wrote about the stoke.  It didn't matter if it was 1 foot or 5 foot.  He surfed the icy cold waters of NorCal all the time, searching for the stoke.  Towards the end of his life, his blog was sparse and not stoked.  But from what I've read, it seems that his stoke filled up a lifetime and a half of anyone's life. 

Surfing Grandma proposed we do a small paddle out for Pabs.  I hope this becomes a reality.  We are a surfing community, and when we lose one of our comrades, it is only fitting to see them out to Sea.  We are all children of the Ocean.  The Ocean does not divide us... She unites us. 

Here's one for you, Pabs!

Small and Perfect 011313 26th Street

Surf: 2-3 feet faces

Winds: Off-shore

Atmosphere: Sunny

Water: Cold (low 50’s)

Sunday what a fun day!  I knew today was going to be smaller than Saturday, so I checked out Rosecrans first.  The lines seemed to be rolling in, but the higher tide was killing it.  I thought that I missed the window because I woke up so late… I woke up at 600 and arrived at the beach around 700.  I passed on Rosecrans and headed to 26^th Street.  Old, faithful 26^th Street…

There were barely any heads in the line up.  Actually, there were barely any heads in the parking lot.  Calvin was barely getting changed into his wetsuit.  Ross was already changed, and I saw Roy’s car (my old surf mobile) already parked in the first stall.  So, I figured it had to be somewhat good, since yesterday was pretty good while it lasted. 

The sand blistered my feet as I walked down to the beach.  The sun was just peaking over the million dollar houses in Manhattan Beach.  The sun did little to warm any part of the beach though.  The winds were biting at my bare face.  My feet hurt just from walking on the sand.  My fingers felt frozen from the wind chill.  It was another cold, blistering morning at the beach. 

There were only a few heads out when I paddled out.  There was Oscar, Eric, Tim, Ray, Ross, Calvin, mystery surfer #1, and myself.  The waves just peeled perfectly from the north around the shit pipes to a bowl-like shape.  Eric was the first to pick up a gem from the outside.  He was perfectly on the peak and was pumping up and down from the take off.  He took that wave passed the Mons Pubis. 

Ross was killing it as always.  He would take off deep on the rights, check pump, snap, pump, pump, snap, pump, stall, and go totally vertical for a finishing backside snap.  He repeated this a few times and called it a day by 800.  He actually meant “One more wave,” when he said it.  Usually, when he says “One more wave,” it means ten more waves.  He probably had to take his kid to a baseball or basketball game. 

Ray, Tim, and Oscar were all on bigger boards, but kept hooting us shortboarders into waves.  All of us were truly just enjoying the spot, trading waves, and not giving a damn about how we surfed.  We went left and right on all of the set waves.  It was just amazing being able to share the spot with a few guys out.  I took off on a right that had a section ahead of me.  Ray was on the other side of the section, so he took off.  I bottom turned and did a small snap on the face before the white water section broke.  Ray apologized if he snaked me.  I told him not to worry, since he was in better position for the shoulder, and that he had been waiting for a while for a good one.  The older dudes were hooting us in to waves continuously.  We were hooting them into waves too.  It was just a good energy to be in at the moment.  Not a bad vibe was felt, even with myster surfer #1.  Eventually, the cold took a toll on all of them, and so they left. 

The north spot belonged to Calvin and myself.  I can hear Roy hooting further south near the tower, no doubt scoring another good left.  Him, Davey, and Don were on that peak. 

Calvin and I traded waves for a good half hour.  Small to medium waves rolled our way, pealing perfectly.  Calvin was on his blue bonzer board, and was super stylish pumping down the line.  His board was super responsive and he was able to bottom turn to the lip with ease on his bonzer. 

I was able to squeeze some of the cleanest rides out of the smallest waves.  The waves were peeling that perfectly this day.  I just couldn’t believe how good it was. 

“Oh, here we go!” Calvin said.

A set detonated on the outside, and started to bend and peel towards us.  I paddled furiously to meet the peak.  I swung around and started to kick and scratch.  I felt the wave lift me up as I took off on an angle.  I stood up, and instinctively stiffened up and put all my weight on my back foot.  I was on one foot for a split second, then fell off the wave of the day.  Un-fucking-believable.  I blew it. 

Oh well.

I caught more rights with Calvin as the spot grew crowded with the second shift.  They were the same dudes that “didn’t belong” that one day with the draining low tide.  They were having trouble catching the waves, especially since the high tide was now making the waves more mushy.  Calvin and I made our way towards the 26^th Street tower.

Roy was on the tail end of the surf session, and so was I.  For some reason, the waves just south of the tower jacked up and made a difficult take off on this small day.  Roy caught a “last wave in” and headed back to the lot. 

Glen saw me and shouted my name to say hi.  I waved back in acknowledgement, asking how he was.  “COLD!” he said.  We both laughed. 

My last wave was a left where I tried to drag my leading arm into the face of the wave.  The little wave wedged up and created a nice face to caress.  The wave broke on the shore, and I was done.  My feet and hands were frozen cold, but my spirits were high. 

Although I blew the wave of the day, I didn’t really care about any of that, since I had a lot of waves under my belt.  There were just waves galore with only a few heads out.  Yes, it was small, and yes it was inconsequential surf, but man, how good is it when everyone is trading waves for a good hour and a half?  I don’t really recall a lot of the waves for the day because each wave was a carbon copy of the wave before: peeling, perfectly-shaped rights.  You just had to get up early and hit the water while it was still freezing cold. 

Mahalos Mother Ocean!!  Mahalos for rewarding the dawn patrollers. 

Cold Winters and Close Outs 010513

Wave Height: 2-4 feet
Atmosphere: Sunny with patchy clouds
Winds: Off shore
Water: Cold

I woke up late today... super late!! At about 6:30 AM, I got out of bed, and started doing my morning routine.  It's been a while since I woke up this late, but I was in the study zone last night, and needed a bit more rest for my weary head.

I really wanted to travel too, but I didn't muster up enough reasons to go north by myself.  I knew Dais and Tom would be out at 26th, and then my friend Mellie Mel texted me asking if I was surfing 26th.  I texted her back "Yea."

Matt was saying that he couldn't surf too long since he had to drop his brother off at the airport by 8:30 AM, and so he could only surf until 8:00.  He was already on the road and looking at Porto. 

"The winds are stroooong off shores... but there's no shape," he said.

Well, if I see ya at 26th, I'll see ya there, I told him. 

I got to 26th around 730, and saw that the lot was pretty empty for my late arrival.  None of the locals' cars were there.  Only a few scattered faces like Bruce were perched on the parking lot.  The winds were still off shore, but the waves were dumping. 

I couldn't quite catch any good waves this day.  The rip current was so strong that I was pulled out of the impact zone on my initial paddle out in record time.  I was actually amazed that I was able to read that while other surfers struggled to make it out. 

There was a left peak right in front of the brick house north of the Mons Pubis, and Davey was tearing it up.  Davey always rides thick, wide boards, and is probably the most skilled surfer out of all the locals.  He knows how to do it all: carves, floaters, and airs. 

He kept blasting the lip off of these lefts that would warp and wedge in front of us.  They were like small slabs where the Ocean just seemed to fold under and explode in a curtain of white water twice the size of the wave face. 

There were a lot of people that didn't belong in the line up out today.  There were a lot of surfers that didn't know how to paddle, or those who had a weak duck dive, or would wipe out on the worst choice of waves.  I wasn't fearful of their safety, I was more fearful of my own.  They could really hurt someone out here, but they probably don't notice that.  They are fully enthralled in their own struggles as they get pounded by the Ocean. 

Tom came out and I was super stoked to see him.  Up to that point, I was bickering to myself if I had made the right call to stay local.  I was questioning and doubting my choices, and wasn't having a fun time.  But, since a friend of mine showed up, the mood lightened up.

Dais showed up too, adding to my better mood.  He was saying that CC and Mellie Mel were in the lot, changing.  Another plus too!

It took CC and Mellie Mel twenty minutes to make it out into the line up.  They got caught on the inside shore pound, which wasn't really a shore pound, since the waves were just folding over themselves.  They were more like dangerous guillotines.

I remember having to keep paddling in because of the rip current.  But oh no, how the Ocean just punishes us for reading her incorrectly.  Out of no where a three wave set would show up, and just destroy us.

I suppose the one memorable ride for today was Dais, Tom, and me sharing a single wave.  We only went straight, but it was very fun just to catch it with the three stooges on it.

My legs were starting to cramp up.... no doubt because I didn't hydrate enough before coming in to the arena.  I massaged it out, and tried to catch that last wave that was never coming.

I saw Christina get pounded on the inside, and she finally made it over the last breaking wave.  But, I saw from the corner of my eyes that there was another rogue set approaching.  I signaled to CC of another wave, and started to paddle out.  Little did I know that I was going to get pounded by this one.

I was in the worst position ever.  I was right where the lip was going to land, and so I ditched my board (sorry, Randy.  I know this is a big no no) and dove under the wave.  I felt the wave pull me up and shoot me down.  I felt my leg being tugged by my leash, and then a sudden jolt and release.

There goes my board, I thought.

I resurface, and luckily no one was around me.  My board was no where in sight.  Another wave pounded my head, and I dove down once more.  I looked around to see if CC was ok, and she was paddling back out with a look of exhaustion.  She must have gotten pounded like fresh veal.

I started to paddle in, and my right leg cramps.  I stop paddling, and look around if I could hitch a ride from anyone.  No one in sight.  Fuck.  So, I started to paddle again, without kicking my right foot.  My paddling power felt weak without one foot, but I kept trucking through the waves, looking back occasionally to see if there was a wave breaking near me.  I had to roll under a few times from waves breaking on my head, and eventually made it to the shore.  A guy was nice enough to lay my board down on the sand as he exited the arena.

There were some guys on the beach, board to their side, with a look of defeat on their face.  They probably couldn't make it out.  There were some groms that were wet but were disinterested in the surf.  They probably got pounded too.

We were all victims today of the Ocean.  I hobbled up the beach with CC.  My cramp had lasted a good minute or two while swimming, and so it was going to last me a few days to recover from it.  I probably paddled a good thirty yards in the impact zone since it took me so long to get to shore.  Not even a cramped leg could slow me down that significantly.  Luckily, the leash of my board didn't break, but rather the little string that connects the leash to my board.

CC, Mellie Mel, and I went to Pho afterwards.  It was a warming experience, and a cherry popper for CC.  She had never had pho before.  We parted ways and headed to our individual destinations for the rest of our Saturday morning.

Mahalos Mother Ocean! 

Happy New Year at 26th Street - 01012013

Surf Report: 2-4 feet with the occasional 5 footer

Water: Cold

Winds: Off shore

Atmosphere: Some patchy clouds, but sunny

HAPPY NEW YEAR!  Dawn patrol today!  I slept at 11:00 PM in order to be able to watch the sun rise and surf some waves on the first day of 2013… and I was successful!

Matt tagging the top off of a left

My dad came out to shoot some photo’s of us today, and Christina was riding in my car today since her car was still MIA.  Matt and Randy showed up, and so did Chris.  The usual local crew of surfers were out this morning, but the crowd was thinner than usual.  That’s what I love about surfing on holidays such as New Years where heavy drinking is involved:  not a lot of people make it out! 

I for one was still drunk when I woke up early in the morning… I honestly remember shooting a text to photographer Ruben Pina and putting my iphone down… and that’s it.  I don’t remember going to bed at all.  I must have been drunk and tired from the day. 

CC back in action... kinda. 

Anyways, the air was extremely chilly, but the water was even colder.  Apparently it was 54 degrees in the water today.  The waves were mushy and started out slow, but occasionally there were some draining set waves that rolled through the line up.  Christina and I caught up on how her trip back to the East coast was, but she was definitely out of synch with the Ocean.  She was on her Aussie board and seemed to have difficultly paddling in to waves today.  She did catch one nice right, taking off right at the peak.  I saw her go straight, so I decided to snake her, and I ate shit.  I came up from the white water, and saw Christina further inside, saying that she had a thick take off, and that satisfied her surf bug. 

“Was it like a thick cock?” I asked her.

“Way better than any thick cock,” she replied.  “I’ll take that feeling of the drop over a thick cock any day.”

Love her. 

Chris showed up unexpectedly, and we chatted up on how surf has been.  I swing around to take a left and he snakes me.  Well, I owe him a few waves since I snaked him before, so we can call it even now. 

Go Chris!  I mean, WTF man?!?! Well, i owed him a few

Chris went for a lot of rights today.  He got a clean right where he turned really hard on the cut back, and came unstuck.  He also took a crazy set wave close out towards the end of the session.  He took off pretty late, tried to make it, but free-fell and went over the falls.  It was probably one of the gnarliest wipe outs I’ve seen Chris take.  Happy new year to him!!  Gotta pay to play…

One of Chris's better moments today :P hahaha

Matt and Randy show up, and I give Matt some lovin in the water.  Matt and I catch up on the antics of last night, and reflect on his brand, spanking new board.  Randy occupied his usual spot at 33^rd, barrel hunting the whole time.  Actually, my dad got a shot of him making a fat turn, so he wasn’t barrel hunting the WHOLE time, but barrel hunting the majority of this surf session. 

Matt seems pretty stoked on his new board.  Not only is he stoked, he is surfing really well on it.  I think the board suits his power style and he seems lighter on his feet.  We surfed together, separately and then together towards the end.  He got some nice rides in going backside, but I’m sure he wanted to go left a lot more. 

Roy was doing his thing as always.  He was catching set wave after set wave, taking them all the way to shore, cranking out two or three turns almost every time.  “Just surf every day, Klaude, you’ll get better,” he says to me.  He has only missed about ten days out of 2012.  I suppose if you do something every day, you’re bound to get better at it. 

I asked Christina if she had any New Years Resolutions.  She told me how when she went back to the East Coast, she noticed that all her High School friends all either had a family of their own, were engaged or getting married, or owned a house.  She explained how she has none of those currently, and that she wants to be ok with that.  She wants to establish her own roots this year, she said.  “And the first step in establishing those roots is through surfing,” she said. 

BAM!! and the lip had no chance of survival when Randy attacked

Christina got out of the water first, since she was tired, and was freezing cold.  I don’t blame her.  She has been out of the water for over a week, and so her paddling muscles must be worn out.  On top of that, the wind chill and water were downright cold for Southern California standards. 

Chris took his last wave, which was a right, to shore, and exited the water. 

I had a small turn on a right, and waited for the “last wave.”  Waited and waited and waited.  The second shift came out and made the Ocean a little bit more crowded.  I waited even more for the “last wave.”  It never came.  I took a close out and paddled in.

My dad asked, “What, you’re done already?  Why did you give up?” 

“I thought you’d be cold and wanted to go home already,” I told him.

“No, I’m fine, go surf more.  Go catch a good wave,” he said to me.

Well shit, I have to go back out now.  I strapped on my leash and headed back out. 

Davey, local rippah, on the second shift

Randy, barrel hunting all day

Matt was sitting with his brother, and I sat next to Roy.  Roy was egging me into some waves, but they weren’t breaking because of the higher tide.  The sets were big close outs, and the inside seemed like they were working better.  The inside seemed too drained out and dangerous though, so I opted to stay on the outside.  Don was on the inside, catching wave after wave. 

A small peak came my way, and I had the left all to myself.  I paddled for it, popped up, and saw Don in my line.  I stalled for him so he could duck dive under the wave.  I kept going down the line casually, not really pumping for speed.  My board just carried me through all the way to the inside where the wave sectioned off and closed out.  I was happy with that last wave, and came in. 

That would be Roy, in da barrel

I came in and saw Christina talking with the locals.  Chris was getting changed, since he had to go to his wife’s uncle’s place (?) in Pasadena and go see the Rose Parade.  He told me that he started a blog, found here at http://gnarlymaskyeah.blogspot.com/

He said that he started a blog because I had one too.  And that prompted me to write today’s blog, since I haven’t spent time writing at all.  Writing was my passion, but it took a back seat to the CPA exam.  I figure I could use the few hours I put in to the blogging sphere back to the CPA exam… and now that I have, I find my creative side dead like road kill.  So, I’m going to write more in my blog so I could consistently recount all the times I surfed, whether they be good, bad, or ugly. 

My New Years Resolution: "Go for it" - it being the barrel

Mahalos Mother Ocean!!  Happy New Year everybody!!! 

YES I CAN 120112 - 26th Street

Surf Report: 6-8 feet

Winds: non-existent

Water: Cool to cold

Atmosphere: Rainy and foggy

I wasn’t going to paddle out Saturday.  I have been internally unbalanced and unhappy with my test results of my November 6^th CPA exam results for my Audit section.  I KNEW I passed.  I knew I succeeded this time around.  But I found out that I didn’t, and I was disgruntled.  On the surface, I tried to say I was ok, that I’ll get it next time, and that it’s just a small speed bump in my life.  Inside, I was like WHAT THE FUCK FUCK THIS FUCK SURF I’M GONNA STUDY SO HARD I’M NOT GOING TO EVEN SURF FUCK YOU WORLD FUCK THIS EXAM I HATE IT SO MUCH. 

Thursday, I was going to go surf, but I decided not to since I had a meeting to prepare for, and it was starting to rain.  Thursday was the first sign of swell for the weekend.  Khang was going out, but I wouldn’t.  I was really thinking in the back of my head that I didn’t want to surf since I had to study, and that I had to be responsible for my work.  That Thursday night I stayed at work until 7:00.  It killed me not being able to surf, so I went to the pool, and swam hard.  I swam for nearly forty minutes before I grew tired and headed home for dinner. 

Friday night, after practice, I talked to Matt on the phone.  He has been psyching about this swell the whole week, especially since his brother, Randy, was in town.  Matt definitely wanted to show Randy some DRC love, and the fact that Matt has grown since his last Bali trip.  And where else to prove that you’ve grown but in big surf?  He told me he was going to 26^th Street, and that he would meet me there.

“Uh, I don’t think I’m paddling out bro,” I told him.

“Oh… what?”

“Yea, it’s been raining, and so I don’t really feel like paddling out into the contaminated water.”

“Oh… well it didn’t rain that much man… I mean”

I interrupted him.  “I don’t think I’m paddling out bro.  Sorry.  I think I should be studying more for the test… so if I see you, I’ll see you, and if I don’t, then I don’t.” 

Matt was disappointed in my response.  He didn’t say it, but I can tell from his tone.  Big surf, his big brother is in town, but none of the DRC are paddling out?  Especially me?? “What the fuck?” he probably thought to himself. 

I get home, and Christina calls me. 

“KK! I’m paddling out tomorrow!! Where are you going??”

“Wait, what? You’re paddling out?”

“Yes!! I’ve been working out all the time, and I want to test myself.  This is the day!  My co-workers told me ‘Oh please don’t paddle out, it’s going to be big this weekend,’ but I said ‘I’m paddling out!’  And my dad told me to not paddle out this weekend, but I told him that I am!  So I’m going out!  Where are you going KK?”

Well, shit… now I have to paddle out.  My male masculinity was knocking on the door.  No, it was pounding at the door. 

“I’ll paddle out at 26^th Street,” I told her.

I shot Matt a text that I will be paddling out, and he responded with one word: EXCELLENT!

I dawn patrolled as usual.  As I drove on the freeway, the grey skies were drizzling rain on my car.  I flipped through the radio stations.  One of the songs that started to play on K-Earth 101 was Spencer Davis Group’s “Gimme Some Lovin.” 

“So glad you made it~ So glad you made it” reverberated inside my head. 

I got to the beach before 7:00 AM, and saw Matt’s head poke out below the parking lot.  He scored free parking in front of the lot on the street.  The line up was empty.  

“I thought it was going to be bigger,” I told Matt and Randy.

“Aha, my brother just said the same thing.  Well, I’m glad you two are on the same sheet of music,” Matt said.

We get suited up and head down to the beach.  The locals acknowledged us and gave us a hearty “GOOD LUCK!” as we made our way down to the sand.  They weren’t going to paddle out.  They were going to watch the space shuttle with the three monkeys inside launch into space from afar today. 

“We’re gonna be forever chiseled into the locals’ memories from today on,” I told Matt and Randy. 

We three take our time stretching.  I was the first to hit the water.  Matt and Randy soon followed. 

Now, from the parking lot, there seemed to be lulls and some makeable waves.  I was positive that I saw that.  All of us were.  But once we got in the water, the waves didn’t stop. 

Matt and Randy seemed to have jet packs on their arms.  They took off and I lost sight of them immediately.  I kept my own pace.  I may be slower than others, but I don’t mind.  I’ll get to my destination eventually. 

I controlled my breathing like how I practiced for so many months.  So many months that I trained in the swimming pool and on land for a day like this.  Duck dived.  Paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, and duck dive. 

I started to count how many paddles I can get before I duck dived.  I got 5 full paddles in.  Duck dive.  I got 6 full paddles in.  Duck dive.

I hear the detonation of a wave behind the wave I’m going over.  Better paddle more!  Duck dive.

The rank Ocean water forced itself up my nostrils.  I tried to breathe out of my nose, but that messed up my breathing pattern.  I swallowed a little bit of the water, and got grossed out.  Paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, and duck dive. 

I start to dry heave while paddling.  I wanted to barf, but nothing came out.  I felt sick from the water.  Sick from the paddling.  Sick of everything. 

I kept counting in between my duck dives.  Five paddles, then duck dive.  Six paddles, then duck dive.  Five paddles, then duck dive.

A small voice inside my head started to say, “What’s the blog gonna say about today?  Shattered ego?  Couldn’t make it out?  What’s Matt’s blog gonna say?  ‘Today was a big day.  It was big but I made it out.  But Klaude couldn’t.  He was stuck inside like a barney.’”

I started to dry heave again.  I kept getting choked up every time I took a deep breath, being careful not to swallow anymore water.  I felt like this was the hardest paddle out I’ve ever encountered. 

What the fuck man?  Is this what you trained for?  You swam so many laps, holding your breath under water, doing the indo board, doing push ups and pull ups, practicing yoga every day, controlling your breathing, skating in the garage, and this what you got to show for it??

This… this feels just like my CPA exam, I thought.  I study and study and study, all to prepare for the big test, and then I FAIL.  I don’t pass the friggin exam after all that effort.  I did all that work, and I have nothing to show for it.  This is exactly how my Audit exam feels like.  I fucking hate it.  If I can’t make it out on a day like this, then I’m never going to pass the test.  I’m just going to keep paddling and not improve, and I’m going to go home and cry about it in front of a computer screen with my flaccid dick in my hand. 

I take a small break.  I look behind me, and I haven’t drifted at all.  I’m still in front of the Mons Pubis.  Well, that’s a positive.  I start to paddle again. 

Eight paddles, then a duck dive.  Six paddles, then a duck dive.  I see a guy on the outside catch a wave, and kick out.  Six paddles more, than duck dive. 

Then I see Matt next to me.  I thought he had already gotten out.  Thank god I saw him, since it gave me motivation to keep paddling.  I was seriously thinking of quitting at this point, but seeing him next to me gave me extra strength to keep on paddling.  I’m not the only one suffering right now.  We all are.

I kept on paddling.  Paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, then duck dive.  I started to block out that stupid voice inside my head that said that this was just like my CPA exam, and that I’m going to keep failing.  I started to chant, “YES I CAN!  YES I CAN!  YES I CAN!”

The high tide started to slow down the onslaught of waves.  With each emphatic “YES I CAN” my heart rate slowed down, but my paddle grew stronger.  I felt my paddle push me through the impact zone.  I kept paddling as I chanted, “YES I CAN! YES I CAN!! YES I CAN!!!”

And then, I finally made it out.  I finally had a chance to sit in the line up, to sit where I belonged. 

Matt calls to me.  He gives me a fist pump.  I throw up a double shaka to the air.  My arms felt like jello, and I could only muster a few weak pumps with my double shaka, but I didn’t care.  I finally made it out. 

Matt paddles up to me, and we let out a happy sigh of relief that we both made it out.  We joked about what thoughts were going through our head during the paddle out.  I talked to Don about the Lakers performance the night before, and we all shared a good energy this day.  Everything was just calm and fun. 

I had to laugh at how good life was for me at the moment.  There was a blue opening in the grey skies, and I kept staring up at it, smiling.  This is it.  This is the moment I needed.  I needed this to get over my exam that I didn’t pass.  I needed this for my surfing.  I needed this for my crew.  I needed this for myself. 

Don went on a few waves, catching them early, popping up, and dropping down the face.  He would disappear for a few moments, then make it off the shoulder. 

Matt was going for good waves too.  He went for a few lefts and a right.  He was saying how the wave had so much juice that his bottom turns were full of G-forces and he was forced to kick out.  He said that he touched bottom on a few of the waves that rolled through and pounded him on the inside.  That was the price to pay in order to play today.  Take a few sets on the head, and then come out to play with a smile on your face. I saw him take two waves on the head after a wave, the first one making his surfboard tombstone, and the second was just pounding him.  He came back, saying that he touched bottom. 

Randy was being picky with the waves.  A lot of the waves were definitely close outs, but Randy was able to take a handful of waves this day on his 5’8”.  He was able to do at least two turns on a wave going backside.  The first snap was a check turn, but then he unloaded on his last money turn.  He pushed the tail so hard that he came unstuck, but it was still really sick seeing that from the line-up. 

I would have been happy and content with just one close out wave for the day.  But I didn’t catch that one close out wave for the day. 

I caught three waves. 

My first wave was a right, where I took off behind the breaking section.  I saw the lip throw over, and so I tucked in near the face.  The lip fashioned a nice C shape over my head before it pinched on me and I wiped out.  I had the small vision of a tube, but I got pinched!  The wipe out wasn’t so bad, and I came up laughing because I thought I was going to get raped by the Ocean again.

I took a right that was a close out, but I made the drop.  I bottom turned in the flats into the white wash.  I was stoked about that.

I took another right that was a medium sized wave for the day.  It wasn’t anything memorable, though. 

Matt got one of the best wipe outs for the day.  I had front row seats to it.  He took off on a steep left that was hollow.  He was steep and deep, and I thought he was going to make it until the last second, when he got unbalanced and his board went up and his body went down with the wave.  The wave was an easy six footer, maybe even seven.  Randy was on the other side of the wave, and wiped out too.  They both came up, paddled back out, and laughed about it. 

Four younger kids came through, and paddle straight into the line-up.  I thought to myself, “What the fuck?  These guys don’t deserve to be in the line up!!  They didn’t even pay the price!! We all struggled, and they just waltz into the line-up!!”

Matt and I waited for Randy on the beach.  Randy took one last right, turning nicely on the face, and then smoothly taking the white water all the way to shore.  We were all tired and famished.  It was, indeed, a good day to be in the water. 

Don was getting changed in the lot.  He said that Bruce and the other boys timed his paddle out, and it took him 28 minutes to paddle out.  So, if I do the math correctly, since we paddled out about 10 minutes before he did, and I took the longest to get out, I must have at least paddled for 40 minutes straight.  We’ll say 45 minutes just to up the ante.  So for 45 minutes straight, I was paddling, duck-diving, dry-heaving, and mustering up the courage to tell myself “YES I CAN” paddle out to the line-up. 

FUCK.  YES. 

Christina was in the parking lot, but she said she couldn’t make it out.  She was a bit distraught, but encouraged my prowess and was saying that we all did well for paddling out.  I told her that she was ballsy and a bit crazy to paddle out too, and that sheer fact gives her a salty notch under her DRC belt. 

Looking back at this session, I was apprehensive with going for the waves.  I know on a few occasions, I could have gone for the deep wave, but I chickened out.  That’s how it is usually on those big days.  We all try to see how the waves are, make sure we’re comfortable, and then charge for them.  I do have that sense of I should have gone harder, but at the same time, I am grateful that I made it out and caught a few waves. 

Matt, Randy, Khang, and I went to Orlando, aka Rastamon’s, birthday party at his house in San Pedro that night.  There was a live band playing, and they were amazing.  The vibe was great, and the people there were very unique individuals.  They were all sorts of backgrounds and characters, and I was happy that Matt, Randy, Khang, and I were a part of it.  The older guys were giving us all props for surfing out there this day.  They were especially giving props to Randy for surfing so well in those conditions.  

I had to ice my shoulders once I got home that day.  I had to go surf the next day.  Yea, I got worked and yea, I got an ass beating, but I still have to come back for more the next day. 

Mahalos to all the positive vibes I experienced up to that moment.  Mahalos to all the DRC for pushing me beyond what I thought I could do, and changing it to what I believe I could do.  Think it, feel it, do it, indeed!  Mahalos for the amazing beat down I received.  Without it, I wouldn’t have appreciated the sport of kings.  And BIG Mahalos for Mother Ocean for sending those waves and life lessons.  Honestly, I wouldn’t know what mental, physical, or spiritual state I would have been without all of this coming together. 

YES I CAN. 

So Stoked 112412 - 26th Street

Surf Report: 1-3 feet

Water: Cool

Atmosphere: Foggy to sunny

Winds: Offshore

The size dropped off a lot today… but the crowds stayed home!  So stoked. 

Matt and I were sexting back and forth last night.  His choice was to go to HB.  I was willing to concede, so I told him that I’ll tell my dad to come out another day to photograph.  The waves were going to be small every place, so why not travel with a friend? 

After a few more sexts, Matt says that he’ll just stick to local guns.  I shook my head in disappointment.  He gets swayed by outside forces so often… I know he’s just trying to please people, but c’mon mate!!  Set your foot down and do what YOU want to do, not what others want to.  I told him that over the phone, and he said, “Yea, I know, but you know, my brother’s in town.  I’ll see you tomorrow, k?” 

Dawn patrol!  And no one was out.  It was a beautiful morning with the thick fog.  The sand was semi cold, but not the coldest it’s been.  I trotted down the sand and stretched.  The waves were breaking pretty close to shore, so I was glad I didn’t travel for surf like this. 

But where was Matt?  He usually keeps his word… maybe he surfed HB with his bro afterall. 

Longboarder Tom was catching some nice waves.  And so was Mr. Oscar.  He had his foamie out today.  It was definitely a good call.

Some rogue sets would catch us off-guard, and so we started sitting further outside.  The cool fog stayed thick over the grey waters.  The water wasn’t rank of red tide smell, but the patches of red tide were still present.  The water was clear, but had the scent of red tide in it still.  I noticed my paddle becoming lazier in the mediocre surf.  So, I started to paddle with more power and purpose as I used to in Hawaii, regardless of wave size.  My arms felt better from doing this. 

My body started to warm up, and I paddled into a right close to shore.  I pumped and saw the oncoming section.  I bottom turned, shot my board out to the oncoming white water section, and turned my head back to shore.  Surprisingly, the board bounced off the white water, and I found myself completely parallel to the wave, heading back to where I came from.  I couldn’t straighten out to complete the move, but it felt crazy to actually have that bounce back on a maneuver. 

Christina came out with Apolla this day.  I hadn’t seen Apolla for a long time.  Last time she was going back to Canada, and then she went off to New York for a film making job.  She finished that, and was back in California.  Right when they both came, the sun started to shine through and burn off the fog.  Symbolic, isn’t it? 

The waves started to become inconsistent, but there were waves to be had.  Roy was again killing it.  He always waits patiently on the outside, spots the good waves from afar, paddles to meet it, and lacerates the wave to shreds.  It amazes me how well he always surfs, and the biggest quality of his surf is the smile he wears every time he catches a wave. 

Christina is getting more consistent with choosing good waves and going down the line.  She had two back to back lefts that she was able to take all the way to shore.  The stoke she had was comparable when she got that one right a few weeks back, going down the face and onto the open section of the wave on purpose.  These lefts were similar, but they were longer rides.  The smile on her face was priceless.  That is the stoke that makes me say that surfing is sometimes better than sex. 

Apolla had one nice ride today!  I was on the inside, and she paddled for the semi-close-out left.  She was grabbing rail at first but let it go half way down the take off.  She bent her back knee and was turning towards the open section, but the section closed out on her.  Christina, the one-person cheer squad, hooted her for the ride.  Apolla was all smiles. 

One of my last waves was a right, where I had to call of the yellow body boarder.  I started to pump and saw him on the shoulder paddling into the wave, so I hooted him off.  I kept pumping all the way into the shallow end, and was trying to finish it strong, but the back wash warped the end section and I couldn’t throw all my speed into the maneuver.  I was kinda bummed that I couldn’t finish strong, but Roy and Christina were stoked for me, so I was stoked too. 

I took two close outs and headed out of the beach.  It wasn’t a long, epic session, but it was enough to fill my soul.  I was stoked. 

I drove Roy down to Khang’s shop on the Promenade.  Roy’s been saying he needed a new suit for the longest time, so I told him that I’ll drive him down there in the afternoon.  He took my up on the offer and got a brand-spanking new Cypher 4/3.  Mahalos Khang and Dais!

Mahalos Mother Ocean!!!  So stoked…