Woo Hoo! We are up to two days of surf this month

This is the second one and the first was so pathetic I didn't even post it.  Back on Sunday, December 7th, a one star day at 8th St. where the tide was fat and the waves were, too.  I think we got three waves each before the wind blew it out.  Ugh.

Great December so far.

Then there was today.  We have had this freaky 16 second period swell for DAYS now, but the wind has been all wonky and the temperatures too cold to make up for it.  But, today I waited for the wind to go west (as predicted on swell.info at 10am), which it did, and I went for it.  Dang cold!

I wore my boots, wimp that I am.  Who cares?  I was the only one out at Mary St. except for two or three guys down by the ramp.  It was clean, finally, but had dropped to chest high.  All I want is quality, and I got a taste of it.  Nothing like South Florida, or Puerto Rico, and my heart breaks to think about Tobago, or Jamaica, or Petit Havre in Guadeloupe. Cocoa today looks like heaven.  Here, it was butt cold and the water is trying to green back up after the shore pounding bombs that it has endured for days on end.  One left I had made the paddle out worth it.  The Dominator just felt so positive and just went up so high on that lip and down that I was smiling like a damn idiot the entire paddle back outside.

But, overall, it was a lot of waiting, and I missed about three that I was kicking myself over, that wedged up perfectly when I was not in the right spot to really get them the way I wanted. Oh, well, it felt good to be out there, freezing and losing feeling in my hands.  One month until... Ecuador!

Scary things

Grey skies, fog, a cold and dying swell... ugh, who wants this?

I drive to the beach early, ready to take the last of Fall's relative warmth. A front is coming, with rain and cold.  But, the fog makes it seem so dreary... and the swell looks confused.  So I wait.

When I return an hour later, the fog is still there, but by the time I decide to just go, something cool happens.  The sun comes out.  Just for about fifteen minutes.  I got one good one and then the sky turned an ominous charcoal grey and the wind whipped up from the north and that, as they say, was that.  I went in and called it a day.

Life on the East Coast.

Oh boy.

Back to Domination

Went out in the full suit for the first time this winter... and decided to give the old Dominator a try.

Woo hoo!  I think that one is going on my next surf adventure.  The waves were only fair shape, shoulder high, but the buoys were 6 ft. at 10 Seconds, high tide at 9am, so off to Mary St. I went.

Caught about three that reminded me how great this board is, so forgiving and stable and fast.  Grey skies, grey water, SSW winds, 65 degree water. A pelican surfed beside me, and I was happy to be alive.

Life is so funny

I have been reading through my old surf trip journals the past few weeks. All those surf trips seem so long ago. But, when I realized just how many I have been on, and all the memories I had the sense to write down, I was amazed. All those things might have been forever forgotten.

There were so many surprises there!  So many times, in my need for validation, I wrote down comments that guys would make about my surfing - and it was such a gift for the now. I was wistful, as I read them, thinking those days are gone. No one says I am surfing good much anymore, now that I am a senior surfer - and why would I ever expect anyone to, except given the fact that I am this old and can still do a cutback. Back then, it was always, "pretty good, for a girl."  Now, it's more like 'pretty good for being elderly.'

But, yesterday there came an unexpected gem. I was surfing at Summer Haven with Bob in little gutless waves. It was one of those days ... the last warmth of the summer ocean is slowly fading away ... spring suits, and grey skies.  I was just out there, having fun with Bob on the tater, when this guy paddled up to me smiling.  He said, "You would have loved the conversation we were having up on the beach about you!"  Oh yeah, I asked, what was that?  He said he had said to his friend, "Look at that kid out there, skipping school!" Then his friend had said, "I think that might be a girl,"  To which he replied, "No way!  No girl surfs like that!"  Ha ha ha, how I laughed.

Thanks for making my day. Even if it was tinged with that same old 'for a girl' qualifier.

It all comes down to this...

Who loves you?

Unexpected moment

At the tail end of this week's malaise of minor light bulb moments ... came this morning.

I had made up my mind last night that I needed to get in to the water... to clear out some of the cobwebs... and I was going out - no matter what.

This day was probably not anything all that spectacular to most everyone else around here. Certainly, this was nothing like days people up north see this time of year, orange leaves fluttering in the clear blue sky, dappled hillsides in the distance, the chill air welcome and invigorating, taking you back to when you were a kid when anything was possible.

Dreams die.

But, this seemed sort of like a dream I always have. The water was crystal clear, a bright mint green. You could see all the way to the sandy bottom. Brian said it scared him at one point when he saw his shadow.  There were so many little barrels to be had, lined up with lovely tapered shoulders, and they kept coming non-stop.  I wore my spring suit for the first time, it was downright cold when I walked out this morning.  But, the water was still holding the last breath of summer's warmth.

I went to Summerhaven first and was let down.  The tide was too high, it was slow, and I could see I would be frustrated if I paddled out there.  I went to Mary Street and everything clicked.  The lines were coming in and no one was anywhere to be seen.  It was small, granted, nothing to write about from the looks of it.  But, once out in it, the sun sparkling like diamonds on the faces of the crystal waves that peeled off in the sun with glorious precision... it was a gift... and I was taking everything I could grab.

Andy pulled onto the beach in his jeep and then took off.  I was surprised. I thought, did he not see that little tube I just got?  He had.  He hadn't brought his board with him when he checked it, thinking there was nothing, and suddenly he was screeching back home to grab it. Then he came out, laughing like crazy, and we both caught endless crystal waves on our taters and giggled like kids.  Nick and Brian came out soon after him.

LANGATANG!  

He said he could touch the bottom with his feet and actually see them, as he sat on his board waiting on the inside for another peeler.  And then another.  And another.

Here is the end of one little wave I caught, and if you look closely you can see me laughing.

Here is Nick on his longboard snagging one...

After two and a half hours of this, I couldn't paddle anymore.  It was non-stop out there the morning. And, just what we needed to forget about our troubles for awhile.

I will not complain

But, we do not have sandbars that can handle 13-14 second swells.

Hurricane Gondola, or whatever the hell its name is, made me feel stupid and inadequate and tired.  I used the 40 person catering excuse on Friday when I tackled the building swell with half-hearted abandon with Andy at the park... YES I CATERED A LUAU FOR 40 RICH PEOPLE ON THURSDAY!

Stupid. What was I thinking?

I mean really, who does something like that?  Who do I think I am?

Oh, hi!  I am Nancy, and I can nanny all week, bake 100 vegan cookies by Saturday, and then stand on my feet for twelve hours straight on Thursday making the equivalent of every goddamned Thanksgiving feast I have created for the past ten years in one day on one frozen burrito with a parakeet flying all over the kitchen landing on my shoulder and head the whole time whispering random and weird things in my ear (wait, was that my own thoughts or the bird's?) and mimic water running while whispering and making kissing sounds in my ear.

Good God, now it is staring at my feet!  WHY is he pecking at my sandals?

What, it is already FIVE O'CLOCK? HOLY SHIT, I still have to finish the three layer carrot cake, bake three different yeast breads, all in various stages of rising, do three salads, and two more side dishes... and dear lord, my heart is beating so fast. DO NOT LET ME TOUCH THAT PORK LOIN... I REFUSE!  That thing was walking around a few days ago, breathing the air and looking at the world.

And, the entire time I could not and WOULD NOT check the report or my phone to see if the waves from the storm had arrived yet, as outside a glorious sunny day unfolded and faded away.

So, I made my way through it.  I only failed to deliver one dish, the Broccoli Quinoa, and never got to mix up the drink, the "Painkiller," that I planned to have ready for the bartender who had to mix it up herself.

But, everyone was having food orgasms by around 7:30 pm. I could hear the compliments out there in the crowd.

And then some of them, mostly all women, came into the kitchen to rave about my skills, but honestly I was so overwhelmed and exhausted by then that it is all a blur.  Except for the one huge man who walked up to the decimated carrot cake and made some hilarious face and moaned, pointing to the cake's remains, "THIS!  THIS!  Ohhhhhh!"

There was a woman who was also quite memorable, named Jan, who moaned, returning again and again, blaming me for her eating too much and saying she could not get enough of everything.  And, then it was over and I drove home and fell right into bed.  In the morning, I looked at the check I was handed as I stumbled out the night before, and noticed I had gotten a $100 tip.  SWEET!

Then suddenly it was dawn, and Andy and I were pedaling our bikes into the park and paddling into thumping swells that clamped down on us like relentless slabs of rushing cement.  Owwwww.

We left there, the rip currents were relentless, the current taking us down the beach at a pace impossible to paddle against, and we tried, to look at Summerhaven.  Crap, it was crowd city.  We saw Bob's car and watched a long time, but never saw him catch a wave.  I said, "Well, if Bob is not catching anything, I won't either." We decided to check out 12th street, where Mark said he was scoring "BARRELS." WHAT?  Ok, let us go see this for ourselves.

Well, that was a lesson in humiliation.  I felt thoroughly inadequate and weak, and missed so many big screaming walls that I backed out of and missed like a lazy ass dork.  Meanwhile, Chuck Lanham was scoring rides that made me want to cry.  Floaters, slashes off the top! Ugh. Andy tried to make me feel better, saying the guy doesn't have a job, just surfs, and exercises all the time, he's like a surf pro, he said. Damn him!! I hate him. But, even Chuck said something to me about it being a 14 second swell and not breaking right.

This day was better left forgotten, and I already practically have. Then, I came back to shore to bake about 100 cookies for the Farmer's Market.

The next day dawned with offshore winds and swells that had worked themselves out into more manageable clean walls.  I went with plan B, which was paying Lindsey $15 and hour to sell my cookies at the market.  I could not imagine myself sitting there while a swell was going off and I had worked so hard to have time to... SURF!

I was rewarded for all the disappointment and humble pie I had eaten the day before.  I had been thinking I was either getting too old for this, or that I was truly more tired than I have ever been in my entire life.  After the goddamned LUAU from hell.

Maybe it was a little of both.

But, there was one hour, as low tide turned into incoming, where I got giddy and insane and cackling and Andy told me to "CALM DOWN!" and I felt like an idiot for being so happy, but no matter, to hell with him, I was finally getting stand up barreling waves that felt insanely unreal even if I wasn't making it out of them every time.

Then I rolled into the market at 12:30 pm and Lindsey had broken the Bluebird Cookie sales record! Woo hoo!

And, I didn't even care that I had to pay her $60 and probably didn't make a bit of profit.

There were finally decent waves and, God damn it, I was there.