First swell of summer
Day 54
Brett and I showed up on Tuesday and the swell had come as promised.
Walking along the beach, I saw a short boarder take off on a left. As he got to the bottom and started his turn, I could judge the height. He was standing upright, knees bent, waist leaned forward. There was three feet of wave above his head and another three feet below his surfboard. the wave was, as a surf report would call it, "head high plus". The short boarder made a bottom turn and a second turn at the top of the face before disappearing into a wall of whitewater. The crashing foam threw him off his board, forward and down.
"He should of pulled out at the top." Brett said. "He could have made that."
I made a mental note of the strategy. I didn't believe I could make it work, but it was a nice thought.
We waited for a lull in the waves and paddled out to the sand bar. The tide was very low, but rising. At the sand bar, I was standing in water less than knee deep. I waited out another lull, and paddled swiftly through some medium sized surf to the line up.
A minute later, the horizon showed an incoming set, and I paddled out to meet it. I wasn't ready to paddle after one yet, but let two monsters of water pass under me. The second wave was impressive. As it passed, several surfers swam for it. I could saw one disappear over the top. The silent morning air filled with the crash of a freight train into brick wall.
A calm cames after the passing an the wave. Looking in towards shore, the sight was white foam over still water. Sporadic speckles of surfers were re-orientating themselves. One surfer was dizzy and was shaking his head violently.
"That was a big one" Brett said. It was an understatement, we both knew it. His voice was full of fear.
I prepared mentally. The streak required three waves a day. There were no stipulations that any of those had to be the biggest waves of the day.
A lull ended and a set began. I took off on one of the early waves, finding a quick left that closed out very shortly after I got to the bottom. I bent my knees, trying to keep my stance as the wave crashed behind me. But, the force of the foam explosion threw me.
Recovering from the ride, I looked back. The waves behind mine were bigger. I waited, holding my ground as best I could while several monsters pounded at my position. The current was strong, pulling me north. The set ended and the paddled back out. Brett was nowhere to be seen. I wouldn't see him again until i got back to my car.
I paddled through the surfers in the line up, swimming against the current to regain my position relative to the beach.
I repeated the process several times. I waited out the really big waves and caught waves that I was comfortable with.
After four solid rides, I looked at my watch. My allotted time was passed, but i decided to wait for one more.
I chatted with another surfer in the line up. He had dry hair, having paddled out through the lull without getting his hair wet. When the set came, he motioned to me that I had the right of way, so I paddled after the wave. I looked back at the water over my shoulder. Normally, this one would have been a little too big for me, but it was time to go.
The wave picked me up in it's momentum, and I jumped to my feet. Hugging the vertical surface, my surfboard sliced a clean line down the face the wave like a hot knife slicing into a vertical wall of butter. Moist air rushed into my nostrils. The noise of crashing water behind me was deafening. I looked up over my left shoulder. I could see the threatening, foaming crest of the beast. It was three feet over my head.
copyright 2004, Travis E. English
Brett and I showed up on Tuesday and the swell had come as promised.
Walking along the beach, I saw a short boarder take off on a left. As he got to the bottom and started his turn, I could judge the height. He was standing upright, knees bent, waist leaned forward. There was three feet of wave above his head and another three feet below his surfboard. the wave was, as a surf report would call it, "head high plus". The short boarder made a bottom turn and a second turn at the top of the face before disappearing into a wall of whitewater. The crashing foam threw him off his board, forward and down.
"He should of pulled out at the top." Brett said. "He could have made that."
I made a mental note of the strategy. I didn't believe I could make it work, but it was a nice thought.
We waited for a lull in the waves and paddled out to the sand bar. The tide was very low, but rising. At the sand bar, I was standing in water less than knee deep. I waited out another lull, and paddled swiftly through some medium sized surf to the line up.
A minute later, the horizon showed an incoming set, and I paddled out to meet it. I wasn't ready to paddle after one yet, but let two monsters of water pass under me. The second wave was impressive. As it passed, several surfers swam for it. I could saw one disappear over the top. The silent morning air filled with the crash of a freight train into brick wall.
A calm cames after the passing an the wave. Looking in towards shore, the sight was white foam over still water. Sporadic speckles of surfers were re-orientating themselves. One surfer was dizzy and was shaking his head violently.
"That was a big one" Brett said. It was an understatement, we both knew it. His voice was full of fear.
I prepared mentally. The streak required three waves a day. There were no stipulations that any of those had to be the biggest waves of the day.
A lull ended and a set began. I took off on one of the early waves, finding a quick left that closed out very shortly after I got to the bottom. I bent my knees, trying to keep my stance as the wave crashed behind me. But, the force of the foam explosion threw me.
Recovering from the ride, I looked back. The waves behind mine were bigger. I waited, holding my ground as best I could while several monsters pounded at my position. The current was strong, pulling me north. The set ended and the paddled back out. Brett was nowhere to be seen. I wouldn't see him again until i got back to my car.
I paddled through the surfers in the line up, swimming against the current to regain my position relative to the beach.
I repeated the process several times. I waited out the really big waves and caught waves that I was comfortable with.
After four solid rides, I looked at my watch. My allotted time was passed, but i decided to wait for one more.
I chatted with another surfer in the line up. He had dry hair, having paddled out through the lull without getting his hair wet. When the set came, he motioned to me that I had the right of way, so I paddled after the wave. I looked back at the water over my shoulder. Normally, this one would have been a little too big for me, but it was time to go.
The wave picked me up in it's momentum, and I jumped to my feet. Hugging the vertical surface, my surfboard sliced a clean line down the face the wave like a hot knife slicing into a vertical wall of butter. Moist air rushed into my nostrils. The noise of crashing water behind me was deafening. I looked up over my left shoulder. I could see the threatening, foaming crest of the beast. It was three feet over my head.
copyright 2004, Travis E. English
posted by travinator @ 7:13 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home