So we headed to the Eastside, where the Hook had decent shape but already a crowd on the peak.
38th was emptier but poor and choppy, and I could hear an airhorn from a contest at Pleasure Point.
M had already suited up in the 41st parking lot, but I knew from past frustrating experiences that I wouldn't catch anything in that skilled crowd, and couldn't stand the thought of a waveless session watching other people surf. So I ditched him. (Sorry M, but I just don't have the ability or the confidence to compete for waves, especially at a spot like the Hook.) I'd rather have a marginal wave almost to myself than wait for scraps on a good one.Down the road in Capitola, there was still too much tide, but some apparent potential. A couple longboarders were in front of the cliffs, where the waves were too moundy and mushy for the fish, but right next to the jetty they had enough shape at times when they infrequently rolled in.
S and I went for coffee and a walk to let the tide drop some more, then I claimed the jetty peak all for myself. There were very long lulls between waist-high sets, but I caught a few, and got in a short ride. A longboarder joined me for a bit and we took turns, although he was able to pick off more of the mushy ones. The water was scummy from the rains and it was cold waiting, drizzling sometimes with a light breeze. Then a pack of little brat boys* on shortboards took possession of the wave, totally headless of surf etiquette and acting entitled to every wave. Agro male shortboarders in training, wish I could spank their parents. Time to go, but I was happy to have gotten wet and gotten a ride.
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