09 April 2014


Although this guy said the water has warmed up again, I didn't believe it. I struggled into my split-toe booties, jamming my second toe into an awkward bend, and remembered why I hate wearing them. But I was glad my feet weren't bare when I touched the still-cold water with my naked hands.

Only Brian was out, getting decent rides on his longboard. The rip current next to the pier almost got me outside with a dry hood. Then a set broke in front of me, four waves in a row, sneering at my attempts to duck-dive my 3-inch-thick fish and sending me into the depths and tumbling back toward the beach. Thankfully a short lull followed that let me get out. I was still catching my breath when another set rolled through, unridden. Then it got flat for a while.
I'd drifted north, and paddled back toward the pier, where Brian was still getting into waves. He took one in, and I tried to take his place. Yet just like the guy in the video, I was stroking constantly and going almost nowhere. When I stopped paddling, the current took me quickly past one piling after another, pushing me out to sea. I don't know how Brian was holding position. A secret undersea anchor? An island in the current that I didn't stumble across? Magic? In any event, I'd had enough, and paddled north parallel to the beach to get away from the rip.

The lulls were long, punctuated by head-high closeout sets (2-3' my ass, Surfline!) with occasional fun-size waves that offered shoulders. I caught a few of those and had a pretty good ride on one of them. Stoked!

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