Saturday, September 23, 2006

 

Capt'n's Log

Subject: back-to-back killer southwest swells

Object: can we handle the truth?

How much is too much?
At what price glory?
My injuries this week:
1) a slightly re-sprained shoulder
2) slightly blurry vision in one eye, slight headaches, and a slightly bruised lip

My injuries last week:
1) a broken heart because gree c and Angela had to go back home

Last week we had a truly beautiful SW swell that gave us very big, elegant, sweeping, scary-looking yet friendly waves. I think I turned a corner and now I have actual moments of feeling like a real surfer. It may have happened sometime after getting about 50,000 very late takeoffs on giant-ass way overhead waves and tearing down the line at approximately the speed of sound. Like day after day. And then doing better turns, and making my way closer to the nose. By making my way I mean awkwardly shuffling, not elegantly cross-stepping, but whatever, I got to like a foot shy of the tip. Fuck right. Something about last week's swell really made sense to me. Everything came together and finally I just understood.
Wavemaster gree c, who grew up bodysurfing on Long Island, showed her skill and finesse and got some of her best rides ever, she said. Homey has the mad wave knowledge due to her many years on the Island. When she wasn't busy being a Shabbes goy and shutting the lights for the neighbors, she was probably out getting the long waves with her gay father, Bill, whose entire head of hair would be flipped forward after coming off a wave, and who would talk about that last one taking him all the way to the parking lot.
Angela Dufresne turned out to be a sniper of the surfing world. After having been out maybe 10 times in the choppy, brutal New York nasty surf, homegirl was paddling way, way outside with me and fucking charging 4-6 foot waves. Homes was up in there figuring shit out really fast, but finally when she angled in perfectly to the perfect wave and was starting to pop up, some fuckin' choad came out of nowhere and utterly cut her off. I hate the clueless choads. But it was funny when she yelled, "You bastard, you cock blocked me!!"
It was ok that they left San Diego and broke my heart, because a couple days later The Mrs. and I went up to LA for Angela's opening of her excellent show at the Hammer museum, which was a fucking blast. We even saw Orlan there, as well as Shane and Alice of The L Word. Well, we didn't actually SEE Shane and Alice, though I think I saw Alice's derrier walking away.

This week's new southwest swell seems a little meaner and harder to read. There is more northwest in it so set waves are coming in from different directions--whoa--and some of the bigger waves are breaking harder and faster. Plus we have been getting surprise, rogue waves that are huge, glorious looking, and great if you catch them, but a little brutal if you don't. I got caught inside this one harsh bulldozer, which although it broke before it got to me, was so powerful that it made this little explosion of heavy-duty whitewater that plowed me so hard, girl, that I hurt my shoulder trying to control my board in it. My second injury was much more eye of the tiger, though. I was all excited because I made one of those late, steep drops on a killer big wave, and I shot down the line pretty fast. The wall started to lift up steeper, and I got even more excited because I thought maybe, just maybe it would form a barrel. So I went for it. But really I should have acted like a mature person and kicked out, or turned up and over the lip, and let it crash behind me. Because in that next half-second I saw that big ass wall, aka freight train, turn on me and start to close out. It was like 2 feet over my head, and starting to come down fast, steeply, and I was in an awkward position where I couldn't turn or even dive over the top, or down, and that's when the thing smacked me literally upside the head. It hadn't crumbled yet, it was huge and glassy and heavy and it cleanly popped me right in the eye and the side of me face, hard. I closed my eye and when it hit I saw a bright light inside my left eye.
*Note to self*
with the giant winter waves coming soon, it might be a good idea to not attempt some of the crazier, riskier manuvers that you can only get away with in the gentle summer surf.




Comments:
It was not a man...
It was not a woman...
It was...THE SEA

sometimes the sea will hit you like the truth. in such cases, when waterballet is nixed because the kelp is more hungry for one's pants than even one's own crotch, i recommend a bit of tidepooling. Question: what critter is it that looks like a stocky bent silverfish and swims sideways in panicked little scrambles?
must I look inward for the answer... perhaps tidepooling just hit me like the truth...
 
A "stocky bent silverfish that swims sideways in panicked little scrambles" sounds too much like a metaphor to me...
 
Hey Capt'n, are you okay? How's your eye? You are the poet of the waves...a wave-whisperer. I am gonna miss you, but will check in when I can.

Mucho lovin' to you,
Peeds
 
You guys are the lil' apples of my eye...my GOOD eye. (Actually they are both my good eye now. A day's rest seems to heal most anything, huh?)
Sea Monkey, I'm reserving a spot out in the lineup for you. Always. Don't worry about the brats, they can kiss our collective ass. Plus The Mrs. got me a surf spot book for Hawaii and all of the mainland US. It has tons of info, including all up and down LA, so I'll scope out our next fave place.
pd-san, you are the cutest. I hope you have the best time down Tokyo.
 
this is the greatest surf log ever
theres three things i have to say-
join the league of the wandering eyed tribe of da devine winds- -not the ass wnds either
make sure to take down bra size when reading swells
remember- dont consintrate on the finger or you will miss all of da heavenly glory


rock tokyo down peeds.
 
yes- please refer to the diagram by mrs the capt in todays log
 
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6 Comments:

It was not a man...
It was not a woman...
It was...THE SEA

sometimes the sea will hit you like the truth. in such cases, when waterballet is nixed because the kelp is more hungry for one's pants than even one's own crotch, i recommend a bit of tidepooling. Question: what critter is it that looks like a stocky bent silverfish and swims sideways in panicked little scrambles?
must I look inward for the answer... perhaps tidepooling just hit me like the truth...

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 7:52 AM  

A "stocky bent silverfish that swims sideways in panicked little scrambles" sounds too much like a metaphor to me...

By Blogger The Capt'n, at 9:06 AM  

Hey Capt'n, are you okay? How's your eye? You are the poet of the waves...a wave-whisperer. I am gonna miss you, but will check in when I can.

Mucho lovin' to you,
Peeds

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 4:49 PM  

You guys are the lil' apples of my eye...my GOOD eye. (Actually they are both my good eye now. A day's rest seems to heal most anything, huh?)
Sea Monkey, I'm reserving a spot out in the lineup for you. Always. Don't worry about the brats, they can kiss our collective ass. Plus The Mrs. got me a surf spot book for Hawaii and all of the mainland US. It has tons of info, including all up and down LA, so I'll scope out our next fave place.
pd-san, you are the cutest. I hope you have the best time down Tokyo.

By Blogger The Capt'n, at 9:04 PM  

this is the greatest surf log ever
theres three things i have to say-
join the league of the wandering eyed tribe of da devine winds- -not the ass wnds either
make sure to take down bra size when reading swells
remember- dont consintrate on the finger or you will miss all of da heavenly glory


rock tokyo down peeds.

By Blogger Unknown, at 10:27 AM  

yes- please refer to the diagram by mrs the capt in todays log

By Blogger Unknown, at 5:50 PM  

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