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.

Vignettes from the last small wave days of summer

Today's the first day of autumn, or last day of summer, I forget which. Either way, I've closed all the windows in my apartment, because it's getting chilly at night. I'm very aware of the close of the season, and am treasuring the last warm sunny days. Which, typical of summer, have had the tiniest waves; but have been great fun. After all, when the waves are so small, the surfers are crap, and I get to be the best one out.

They blur together. The early morning session where I saw a guy who had dumped me in a most ungentlemanly way (who is normally an excellent surfer) and surfed way, way better than him, getting wave after wave, til he skunked off in defeat. A very congenial session with delightful one-foot waves and north wind, where everybody spoke to everybody and shared party waves. Today's session was largely silent but friendly, and gorgeous. There were only two of us; I had picked my spot and he picked his; and halfway through he moved over to mine because I'd judged the waves better and was getting rides where he was not. Also very satisfying because usually I'm assuming everyone else knows more than I do about surfing, that they're right and I'm wrong, and that is no longer always true. I had a great time today, getting most of my drops perfect.

And yesterday...guess what, I ran into Barney again for the first time in over a year! Wow, the last time I can easily find when I wrote about him is exactly three years ago, on Sept. 18, 2006! I was unabashedly delighted to see him. He is still exactly the same, a big overgrown nerd even older than me, with a silly grin and a silly hat. I thought he'd given up surfing but he's still delighting in trying to learn at fifty-something. I didn't care that everyone else was giving him stinkeye, we greeted each other like old friends and as if a year or so hadn't passed. He's not much better at surfing and maybe never will be; but he did stand up and get rides. It just takes him centuries to get up, like it used to take me, but he clearly doesn't mind. (I was very conscious and proud of snapping up today and practiced doing it earlier than usual, even too early in some cases.) He's still got the same crappy board (people make fun of it behind his back) and just seems happy as pie to have it. It's very comforting that in a world of change and strife Barney is still the same. He seems not to have aged at all and hasn't lost either his kookiness or his enthusiasm.

Oh, one small thing. Apparently I almost died today. I wiped out, did an underwater somersault and lost my board. An eyewitness said the board shot straight up into the air and came straight back down about an inch from my head. He was having visions of blood and emergency rooms, and then I rose up smiling. I didn't know I was an inch away from death until he told me, and then I'd rather have not known. Just a reminder that death is always a possibility in the midst of life, especially when you least expect it.