Fearing the Flatness

The dreaded summer "flatness" has arrived. Surfers in Nor Cal have two choices: put your stick away for the season or flee south to catch your fair share of bottom hemisphere swell.This seems to be the general consensus from the majority of Bay Area surfers- yet I have to disagree. Triple overhead OB and firing Steamers certainly ratchets up the adrenaline meter- but this summer has provided me with more decent, enjoyable swell than I found throughout the entire "el nino" season of 2010.

The Pacific Northwest was assaulted constantly this winter. Western facing shores saw some unforgettable stretches of swell, but generally things were just a bit too wild to constructively ride. The result: sand bars up and down Nor Cal are now primed for southern swell.

Yesterday, as a 3' swell was lapping at the shores of OB and Linda Mar, we enthusiastically drove further south in hopes of scoring some meager scraps. Rounding the bend below Devils Slide our eyes feasted upon the stretch of beach at the edge of Montara.

Clean, peaky chest high waves filed through the sandbar at irregular intervals and every now and then a small barrel roared down the line. Jumping over the white-water breach break, we paddled out through a rip to join two others in the line-up. With a little patient persistence I fell into a rhythm and caught wave after wave into the beach, hopped out, and jumped back into the rip to do it again.

With the water finally warm enough to enjoy long sessions without boots, gloves, or a hood, and long, calm evenings, I have to profess my love for summer. Thank you southern hemisphere for providing whatever you can this summer- I'll be happy to put in the extra effort to meet you upon arrival. Flatness is only a state of mind.

And if it does become completely unrideable, then I'll put my faith in the butterfly effect. Keep on sneezing Australia!


Sneezing In Ultra Slow Motion - Watch more Funny Videos

Vampire Beatdown

While listening to the Edward Sharpe station on Pandora this afternoon my attention was snagged by a catchy tune from a vocalist who sounded oddly familiar. To my chagrin I discovered that the music belonged to be none other than mainstream indy delight Vampire Weekend. I'm not sure what my staunch opposition to this band has been, maybe it's the trustafarian following and hipstered out image, but I couldn't help my curiosity and decided to check out their website.

A newer album entitled Contra was prominently displayed on the welcome page, followed by this video for the song Holiday. I guess I enjoyed the feel good tune, but what the hell is with the last scene? A bunch of clowns dressed as colonial freaks beating up surfers? I'd love to see how that panned out in real life.

180* South... east or west?

On those monumental days when major dreams become reality, there is often an accompaning frenzied mix of emotion. The root of which is nervous excitement. I loosely observed this phenomenon over the past week as the new captain awaited the arrival of his adventure vessel from Newport Beach, CA. The well versed sailor in him knew that it was going to be serious task to prepare his floating home for the hazards of the open ocean, yet you could see the budding embers of unrestricted exploration glowing in his eyes.


When we arrived in Sausalito we found the small marina nestled behind a newly renovated building and gravel parking lot with overgrown weeds and rusting cars scattered about the perimeter. Walking over temporarily placed plywood from ongoing rennovations, we hopping onto the floating dock and caught our first view of the the 42' Westsail. Impressive indeed.

Within the first hour of my visit multiple people threw out a variety of warm greetings. The marina is home to a relaxed community of live-aboards from all walks of life. Small villages truly bring people together, especially when their is a shared passion/common ground. I like how people living outside the "normal" realm of urban society have an air about them that they know something that the outside world doesn't. As the modern world of "innovation" canabalizes itself, it will be interesting to see who survives. Will it be the wealthy mongol who has as the riches in the world, hiding high above the street, or the adaptable vagabond who throws caution to the wind?

I boarded the white-hulled ship and inspected her lightly weathered deck. Wood trimming and brass fixtures etched nice orderly lines. Down below the space felt foreign, yet comfortable. I am excited to see how the captain and his lady bring their own character to their mighty vessel.

We decided to take her out for a brief putt around the bay in the cold July air. With only a Reacher available to fly and poorly educated deck-hands, it was a short trip. The captain had no intention to risk something stupid happening on his first day on the bay.

We spend the rest of the evening enjoying chicken, beer, rice and rum below deck while listening to groovy Dead tunes. I think we all let our minds wander to things to come in far away lands. Can't you just smell the tropics? Can't you just hear the roar of remote waves? Can't you just see that peak emerging on the horizon? In the meantime- pass the rum.

Star Spangled Session

As to be predicted the fog rolled in thick over San Francisco during the late afternoon on the 4th of July. I spent the height of the day serving boozy strangers crabs and the like- so when things slowed and I made my way out of the Shack door, I was primed to hit the beach or grab a beer. The cold, dense fog wasn't much of a motivator but I chose to gamble and drive south.

Sure enough, as I rounded the bend on Skyline Drive and split off onto Highway 1 a distinct fog line clung to the cliffs of Daily city, leaving Pacifica in a blessed sun pocket. Excited to relish in the remaining moments of daylight I hammered the accelerator to the floor and within minutes slipped into the overcrowded parking lot at Linda Mar. The grills were fired up and festivities in full swing- thankfully leaving the water unusually empty.

A southern pulse which had entrenched itself over the weekend was sending set after set to great the sandbars of NorCal and only a light surface texture disturbed the nicely groomed lines. I hurriedly forced my way into the new XCEL suit and was sweating before I hit the water. What a novelty it is to own a functional wetsuit.

I paddled out to the center of the beach and traded waves with one other guy for the next two hours. We chatted about the perks of living in San Diego vs. the Bay Area and he mentioned how, not matter where you are, there is never a better time to surf than the Superbowl and holidays. I'd have to agree.

The waves were relaxed and playful, featuring a smattering of long lefts to choose from. Taking in the sunset on the outside we even enjoyed the small time fireworks lighting up the beach. Glove free Independence! Hoodless Freedom! This is what summer is all about.

Soon I was the last soul in the water, alone with my board and thoughts as the sun tucked behind the marine layer. Feeling just about as Patriotic as the next drunken soul, I caught one more wall to the beach and thanked my forefathers for this glorious land with a celebratory floater.

Whale of a Dream

I dreamt of giant cartoon whales last night. They began swimming in the midst of the water at the beach where I was relaxing. Soon they were breaching around the people frolicking in the warm currents just off shore. I was concerned that they were going to eat or injure some of the patrons but they seemed largely focused on darting to and fro, maybe feeding on dream world thoughts and ideas. One particularly energetic whale puffed himself up and cruised across the top of the water like a balloon. How Strange.

We surfed Linda Mar yesterday before work. Whales were feeding a few hundred yards off shore. I saw the head of one or two rise to the surface and the occasional blow-hole spray. I love knowing that we haven't completely destroyed the eco-system and that the whales are on the move to and from the feeding and mating grounds. What a wonderful adventure- constantly moving north and south in a dance with the sun. The surf was small but pulsing enough to provide bunch of fun rides.
Today I picked up a new 5/4 XCEL suit. It seems a hell of a lot better constructed than the Hyperflex suits I've been wearing up to this point, but time will tell. I also grabbed some new boots and the 180 degrees South flick. New gear rocks.