(in)decision

Today the forecast was for five to seven foot waves, and it was accurate. That's overhead to most people. But the conditions were about as good as they can be: favorable wind, sun, warm temperatures. Oh, and crowds.

Did I go, or did I not go?

Well. Two days ago, a surfer died at our beach. Right out in front of my window. Perhaps even while I was looking out the window. No, I didn't see it. That day I didn't go out, just because I wasn't feeling it, I was busy, I wasn't sure whether the waves were really manageable. They were, only five to six feet. It wasn't a big day. But this surfer got his leash tied around the wooden sticks which make our beach so hazardous, just as I did and wrote about a little while ago. I finally managed to get my leash off but it wasn't easy and it was terrifying being tethered there as the waves came in. And that day wasn't as big as today. Anyway, he was an inexperienced surfer and couldn't get the leash off, and by the time help arrived, it was too late. This could even have happened to an experienced surfer, though. It could have happened to anyone.

News traveled fast. The next day, though there were large and makeable waves, no one was out. Absolutely no one. A 36 year old man, healthy and fit, dead.

Today, the crowds were back. But people were thinking about the drowning, I am sure.

Not very long ago, there would have been no question or doubt about going out on a 5 to 7 day. I would never have considered it. But now (after all these years) 5 feet doesn't seem so bad, seems manageable and not scary. And I could dodge the bigger waves. And the conditions would never be better, if I wanted to challenge myself.

But my teeth still hurt, the worst surfing injury I've ever had (still don't know how that will end up, if I need surgery). I didn't want to get hurt again.

Yes, no, yes, no. I went to the boardwalk and watched for a while. I ended up watching for as long as I could have been surfing---dontcha hate it when that happens? It's like, if you're going to spend the time, you might as well spend it surfing.

But I was watching and learning. I was watching the surfers the way you do when you feel everything they're feeling as if it's happening in your own body. I was imagining what it would be like to be out there.

Others were doing the same. I saw a young woman stroll up with a shortboard, all ready to go. The look on her face when she saw the waves said everything. She was having doubts. She didn't look happy. She stood for a while, watching, exactly as I was. I am quite sure we were thinking the same thing: so crowded. It's bad to be in a crowd on a big day if you're a bit unsure of ourselves. I almost said something about the crowd, but didn't. The reason I think she was thinking along those lines was that she finally walked down to the end up the lineup, where waves were not as good but it was far less crowded. I'd have done the same. I watched her for a while, and watched a guy with a blue longboard. I watched him get out, much as I would. It took a while, but he made it. If he made it, I could make it. I didn't know whether I was glad or disappointed that he made it. If he hadn't made it, it would serve as justification for my decision not to go, if I didn't. Everything I saw was getting processed (I told myself) and ultimately I would make a decision.

I saw the shortboard girl come in after only about ten minutes, and she took her leash off, so I thought she was deciding to come in because it was too big. But then I lost sight of her, so I don't know if she did.

All along the boardwalk surfers were making calculations. Are you going in? Yeah, considering it. Did you paddle out? How was it?

I think I was deeply influenced by overhearing two of those I consider the best women surfers at our beach say, No, they weren't going out today. Too big for me, one said. She's much much better than I am. I just want to have a nice relaxing day, not get worked, said the other. She's even more better than me.

By anyone's calculations many if not most of the waves were overhead. I could have handled the smaller ones. Getting out would have been a bitch but I would have made it.

In the end I made a (in)decision not to go. I'd spent an hour and a half hanging out. I had work to do and a date with a friend later.

I'd just experienced, in my mind, every aspect of today's potential surf experience, from the getting hammered getting out to the trying to pick manageable waves to going over the falls to spending 15 minutes getting back out to pushing myself to try harder to wiping out again to maybe getting up on a smaller wave and struggling out again to the blessed delicious satisfied feeling of exhaustion I'd have by nine o'clock that night after such a session and the marvelous feeling of accomplishment I'd get for trying on the biggest day of my life so far. And I just did not feel like doing it.

But next time I will go.

The next day the waves were 4 to 5, and what a difference it makes to know you can handle the biggest waves, not just the smallest ones. There was no fear or indecision. I went for the bigger waves. I got compliments on my surfing. I made all my drops and got up on every wave; it might have been downhill from there, but at least I got that part right on bigger waves, which is a major accomplishment for me.

When Surfline says "good" and means it

Today was that rarest of occurences: Surfline actually rated our waves as Good. We almost never get Good. The best we usually get is Fair. And the occasions when it's good are usually over 6 feet, limiting the crowd to experts.

Today was both Good and 4 feet.

The result was that this midmorning November Wednesday was soon as crowded as a summer weekend. I mean bumper to bumper. I mean a board every two feet. I mean people sitting not only on either side of you but inside in front of you.

I could have gone down the beach a ways from the main peak where it would, eventually, get less crowded. But I decided not to. I decided to join the fray.

I've done that enjoyably on small days. Today wasn't completely small; there were some head high sets coming in. But by now I'm good enough at surfing, and surfing in crowds, that this didn't faze me. I can turn, I can (mostly) get out of people's ways just as well as they can out of mine.

So I decided to make the crowd part of the challenge and the fun. It wouldn't have worked if the waves were any bigger, but it worked.

I got waves, I got up and riding, more than most people I saw; and I was having fun. Now, were there waves I would have gone for, but for someone else going for them? Absolutely. Were there waves I missed, having to pull off, that I would have gotten and enjoyed were it less crowded? Yes.

Were there waves I got that no one else got? Yes. That was mostly by going for the smaller ones. That was my tactic; I might have gotten smaller waves, but I got more waves.

I would have been fine on the bigger ones, if there hadn't been so many other people out. After a while I started wishing I could have gone on the bigger ones, but not so much that I was willing to try it.

I was where the very best surfers were, the ones who sense a big set coming before you can even see it and start maneuvering. They didn't bother even paddling for the smaller waves I went for. But when I saw them paddling out and around me, I knew they saw what they had been waiting for. And I could have paddled into position as well, and tried for them, but these were the guys who catch what they paddle for, and they know how to position themselves and would have been flying down the line by the time I got up. Damn. I've got to become one of these guys. Or women. One of them is a woman and she was having a fine flying time on head high sets.

I enjoyed myself immensely today and congratulated myself on the challenge of holding my own and getting my waves in the crowd. It actually did turn out to be part of the fun.

And then just as I was getting a bit overconfident, and trying for some waves that were a bit bigger...

On a silly wipeout where I didn't get the wave for I know not what reason, I came up and the board somehow smacked me hard in the jaw.

It's the noise that's so unnerving, the noise your board makes when it hits you in the head or the jaw, isn't it? The noise is almost worse than the impact. And once you hear that noise, what's the first thing you do? Check for blood, that's what.

There was blood. It was from my teeth being driven into my tongue. The session was over. It had been two great hours. A "good" day indeed.

But I checked that my teeth were still in my mouth, and the blood wasn't a lot, so I decided I would be OK. Well, I'm not. The pain subsided some but my teeth hurt so much from the board slamming against them I can't eat. Turns out my teeth have small fractures, there may be nerve damage, and I'm told if I don't get better in a week I will need root canal on my front four bottom teeth.

It's just bad luck, that's all, I can't blame the crowds or anybody else. I haven't had any surf mishaps in well over a year, maybe more, and these things happen to everybody.

"How was it?"

Didja ever ask that question to someone coming out of the water as you're getting in? Do you? And if so why and how do you use that information?

I usually ask whenever and whomever I can, but then it's difficult to judge how much weight to give to their response. It adds to what you already know from your visual impressions, info about wind direction, etc. Does it make the difference between a go and a no go? After all, that person is a random surfer, not you; may be a better or much worse surfer, and so the reasons why "it" was good or not may have more to do with him than you.

Today I had a feeling that things would not work out so well (saw whitecaps from my window, the wind was west) but it was a sunny warm day and I haven't surfed in forever (I just came back from Omaha for crap's sake) and I just wanted to go. So I put my suit on and on the way to the waves met a random surfer and asked the question.

His response: Not too good.

I decided to disregard that and think for myself.

Turns out, he was right.

The waves were sideshore and doubling up and few were catching them even though a lot of us were in the water.

It was a one-wave day for me; the kind where you are lucky to get one good ride and when you do, you might as well go in.

Shoulda listened to the guy.

Schadenfreude

I've been accused somewhere on this blog of Schadenfreude, that is, taking pleasure in the misfortunes of others. I don't see it that way.

Consider how many years I've had this blog, and correspondingly how long it has taken me to get to the point of any semblance of surfing, let alone proficiency, and how difficult it has been. Even if I did engage in some Schadenfreude, I could be forgiven.

So, on a day like today, a challenging closeout day, when I was at first the only one out, then was joined by two others, and when I was the only one getting up and getting rides at all (albeit not very long ones) and they weren't, it is certainly understandable that I would feel proud of myself and that in some way that feeling of pride depends on their not getting rides.

In other words, after having been the worst surfer every time out, for years, let me enjoy being the best whenever I can.

I did it this time

Today was another bigger wave day, five feet, and I made it my goal not to hang back but to take off later.

I did it. And it wasn't so bad. At first I got worked. Then I got up to my feet. Then I got a ride.

It wasn't perfect, but at least I learned something. As I thought, the only cure for being scared and taking off too early is (being scared and) taking off later and taking the consequences.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

Today was about as good as a session gets.

The sun was out. The wind was calm and it was warm. No one needed a hood.

Miracle of miracles, no wind in the afternoon. I got out late, after having an unusually good day so far. I timed it right.

The waves were little.

Crowd was small and friendly.

I got lots of rides. People hooted. Even though it wasn't challenging, I felt like I was actually learning some skills. Like, I could feel the rails grabbing the waves. I could feel myself controlling them. I knew where they were. Usually I don't think about such things. I thought, inside rail, outside rail, and knew what I was doing with them.

I was able to get up low and stay low, something that's usually difficult for me, but it makes a big difference when waves are small.

I got that feeling I've talked about before, when time seems to be suspended, at least for a couple of seconds. When that happens me and the wave are perfectly in synch.

I was actually smiling at strangers and they were smiling back. No gray faces today, only sunny ones.

To finish it off, there was a gorgeous sunset. It was my first sunset session in many many months. There is nothing so good as watching the sun set from the water, unless it's watching it after a spectacular session. I stayed out as long as I could still see.

Perfect day, perfect surf, perfect sunset, a man waiting at home to make me dinner, perfect night. The kind of day that gives you the strength to go on.

Actually, there's no secret to what causes such a good surf session. And I'm sure most of you know this. It's not the sun or the waves or the wind or the tide (not only). It's whether you had sex before your session. There is a 100% correlation between sex and good surfing. I have never known an exception. But that's no secret, right, people?

Not Enough Balls in the Water

Has it really been a month since I posted? Sorry about that. There have been some more small wave sessions I didn't write about. I've travelled, been busy.

And today I was woken up by waves.

They weren't small. The wave report said up to one foot overhead. That was an exaggeration, but they were a good five feet. OK, I'm not scared of that anymore. And the wind was in the right direction, which should have made things easier.

But the wind was blowing 25 kts, which is, I don't know what in MPH, but a lot. That changes everything.

I went out in my spiffy new 4/3 wetsuit for the first time, and was warm enough (though I cannot agree that zipless suits are warmer than zippered, and are much harder to get out of). But I didn't put on the hood, and the wind was enough to freeze my ears. The day was gray, the faces of the surfers were gray. Not much smiling or talking.

Because of the wind the waves were breaking hard and steep---you know, when they send up that much spray, it's not going to be easy.

I kept hanging back because of I was afraid of the steep drop (not the size so much) and as a result guess what---I missed just about every wave. One I wasn't early for I got worked on, but not so badly. Yet I still just kept hanging back.

Late in the session I saw D., Master Surfer, who told me: Take Off Late, As Late As Possible. And proved it by getting a nice, long, fast ride. He was right, of course. Yet I couldn't work up the nerve.

I know the only cure for taking off too early is to take off late and take the consequences. Chances are they won't be as bad as I think. Once I learn that, I will be fine. And I don't know why I couldn't do that today. It makes absolutely so sense to come out on a freezing, howling wind, rainy day---and then just sit in the water getting nothing. It takes balls (or should I say ovaries) to come out on a day like that but it takes more balls to make coming out worth it. I didn't have mine in working order today.

All I can say is, I wasn't the only wuss in the water. The great majority of my fellow surfers (except for D.) weren't catching any waves either. I guess we all lacked ovaries.

Well, partly that, and partly the wind jacking up the waves making it really challenging for most people. I heard later that even those who consider themselves macho men were wiping out.