29 August 2015
I employed my strategy of sitting inside to catch waves the pack missed and took a handful of lesser rides that felt good nonetheless after being so long deprived. Then I got one good wave, well ridden, chest-high with several turns on the glassy face, punctuated at the end with a "Woot!" before I dove into the water. Another six surfers were coming down the cliff path, so I decided to close my session on that high note.
There was a thick soup of seaweed just off the cobblestone beach, and a large wad ensnared my leash. I dragged a few pounds of seaweed out of the water and spent half a minute getting untangled. My board and body were covered in bits of the stuff, as if we'd rolled in fresh-cut grass wet with dew. No matter; it was worth it for that fine wave. Stoked!