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A Sea Going Voyage: Part III; I Didn’t Expect That to Happen

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , on August 3, 2011| 6 Comments »

 If you missed Part I: Gearing Up or Part II: Quality Ocean Time click the links.

We motored around the corner from Smugglers Cove and passed about three random surf spots that Cit said were of little significance compared to where we were going.  I had to take his word for it being that I had never been there before.  All I knew was I wanted to hop off the boat and take advantage of some of the fun rights I saw.

Pulling up to the actual spot was as much invigorating as it was disheartening.  Here we were out in the middle of the ocean in one of the most remote places around and sure enough there were ten boats in the cove.  One was this half a million dollar yacht from Huntington Beach with about ten guys on it.  They had all the fixings, hot tub, big cabin, bbq, probably a nice galley with refrigeration, a shower, and lord knows what else.

Meanwhile we pulled up on our barely sea worthy sailing vessel with nothing more then a hot plate, a cooler and a couple of boards.  We were pirates as Cit put it and he was not pleased with the crowd situation.  The lineup was easily twenty five guys deep, everybody hassling and frustrated.  You could hear the jeers from the boat.

I decided to cook us breakfast, scrambled eggs and bacon.  Let me take a moment to describe exactly what cooking on a boat is all about, especially in the ghetto ass little galley I had to work with.  I had never cooked on a boat before and all I can say is that it is as challenging as it gets.  Imagine getting knocked around by waves and pushed in every direction while attempting to chop, sauté, boil and sear food.  How I managed to keep from getting burned or lacerated is beyond my comprehension.  Its funny because all the pots are designed to clip into the range so that you don’t have to worry about a pot of hot water or even worse hot oil bouncing off into your face.

I think I made some pretty decent meals considering what I had to work with.  It’s a ton of work.  I kept getting knocked over by waves and was on a constant battle with seasickness.  Cit was overall pumped on the quality of the meals and it’s always good to keep the captain happy.

After breakfast he jumped in and paddle over to the line up.  I hung back to finish my food and clean up the galley.  I sat there and watched as this perfect 6-8ft + A-frame came out of deep water hit the reef and just went perfectly in both directions.  The left was good for about three to four turns before ending up on dry reef.  The right was a perfect wall bowling around the reef with anywhere from four to eight hit sections depending on the wave.  It was not really a barrel but a perfect wall with just enough lip to get gnarly on.  Cit said you could not ask for a more rip able wave and I would have to agree with him.

According to Cit there was a landslide 200 years ago or something like that and it created this perfect reef pass.  He is not a geologist by any means, but he seemed to know his shit about the island.  If you looked at the way the place was laid out there was nothing but sheer cliff all around and then this small rocky beach with a perfect wave in front of it followed by more cliff.  There was enough evidence for me to accept his reasoning.  Truthfully I did not give a shit how it got there. All I cared was that it was there and I was about to rip the fuck out of it.

It sort of reminded me of Hammonds but with out the shifty lineup and a bonus killable left.  The crowd slowly began to thin out as the early morning crew slowly made their way in to eat their own breakfast, “the bacon effect” as Cit called it.  I jumped off the boat and the water was a surprisingly warm, 65 degrees.  Hurting from the previous night I took my time paddling over to the peak.  Cit was sitting way outside and not looking to mix it up with the pack yet I sat with him.  Then a set came in.  Cit went on the first one leaving me out the back and in perfect position for the second.  I turned and burned to the chagrin of everyone out there.  One dude even yelled “way to just paddle out and snag a set wave”.  Shoots I don’t know how he was going to get it anyway if I was in the perfect spot for it.

Right off the drop I did a huge vertical tail free reo, which I recovered backwards in the white water.  I thought I lost the wave but then bottomed turned right into the next section perfectly and banged out another three good turns.  After that wave I hung on the inside and scraped a ton of fun lefts and rights.   I stuck a nice front side air reverse landing nose pick only to spin around staring dry reef in the face.  I bailed and swam up to face to avoid taking the rocks head on.  Still I got worked pretty good on them and learned that urchins live on those rocks the hard way.  I calmed down a bit after that thinking it would not be a good idea to get injured that far away from proper medical attention.

I paddled back to the outside to focus on the sets, but I think the crowd was still rather salty that I snagged that set wave off them.  I got a really nice right super deep off the pack.  This Long boarder tried to paddle on me, but in the process created a perfect section.  I hit it, launched a nice clean three foot backside gap air, landed perfectly on the other side, coupled by a few good hits and finishing with an air reverse in the shore pound.  Upon paddling back out no one had shit to say to me any more about anything.  Instant respect.

We ended up surfing till round two when the wind came up.  A decision needed to be made on whether to hang around for the wind to go offshore and have an evening session or cruise to the Santa Barbara side of the island and go for a hike.  Cit had his heart set on the latter, I really did not care either way, almost wanted to just sail home so I could get back to the Barb.  The ruling was to go for the hike.

We docked in a place called little scorpions that was supposedly a safe anchorage.  Thanks to a sudden change in the wind it became hell on water.  I cooked us up Spaghetti and meatballs as a celebratory meal.  Exploring the island was a total trip.  Turns out there used to be a ranch settlement there in the early 1900’s and as a result the parks department has a chill little museum and old farming equipment set up.  The place really was amazing and I am very fortunate for the opportunity to get there.  On the way back to the beach to claim our skiff and paddle back to the boat we passed this random group of people hanging out.

“Hey, you guys want a cocktail?” a voice chimed.  Well you folks know that one does not have to ask me twice and I think Captain Intoxication who was already five beers deep and a glass of wine felt the same.  These people opened up a cooler that contained a properly stocked bar.  Then they busted out a bit of chronic as well.  At that point I had a feeling we were not getting off the beach.

Normally I’m not one to indulge super hard (ok that’s a lie), but as I looked at our boat getting rolled around in the distance I knew I needed all I could get in me if I was going to make it through the night.  The stars were stunning.  I had not seen a sky like that since my New Zealand days.  Our new friends were hired kayak guides who spend five days on the island, two days off.  In a way I almost envied them.

Cit and I decided to cruise as our wits gradually came back to us.  As we were walking away he tripped over a rock and fell flat on his back.  Some how he managed to miss hitting any rocks.  Good old fashioned drunken luck strikes again.  We sloppily attempted to push our dingy back out into the water through the by then dicey shore break.  In the process we ended up springing a leak in the bottom of the hull.  To get back to the sailboat it was a quarter of a mile row through what now had become some very rough seas.

This was all going down in a beat up five foot dingy.  A few minutes passed and I felt a tingling in my feet.  The first thought that came into my head was “man that was some really good ganja”.  Then Cit yelled, “We are talking on water”.  I looked down and sure enough I was in water up to my ankles and growing.  Luckily there was an empty milk carton in the dingy.  I ripped the top off and started bailing to literally save our lives.  Its shark water out there, the night was cold and we were drunk.  I am pretty sure if the dingy sunk I would have drowned.

The Gods were smiling on us that night cause we got to the boat with the skiff barely afloat.  Immediately we pulled it up on deck and gave it a quick epoxy, during which I passed out.  I awoke to Cit freaking out at around 3am as the boat was getting tossed back and forth by five foot seas.  It was too dark to set sail but way to uncomfortable to sleep.  The two of us sat there in the dark sick from the rocking and drinking, just waiting for the sun.

At 5am we set sail.  The wind was howling and it was a different kind of scene then the previous day’s.  It looked so angry, like a scene out of Hemmingway’s Old Man In the Sea.  The sky was dark gray, the sea a bellowing deep greenish blue.  There were white caps everywhere.  Once under way Cit handed me the till.  He was exhausted and very hung over.  Turns out he did not get any sleep that night.  I was feeling bad too, but Cit definitely needed a nap.

I grabbed the till and held a steady course.  I had to work it so that the boat rode up and down the swells evenly to keep as minimal water from splashing over the bow as possible.  At first it was daunting.  Then I got the hang of it and I was cruising.  It became quite salubrious out there in the wee hours of the morning.  There was not a boat in sight except a giant barge being pulled by a tugboat and visibility was limited.  I could see the island getting smaller behind me and the ominous gray horizon in front of me; my trust was in the accuracy of my compass to get us home.

We moved at a humdrum pace towards Santa Barbara, yet I was ok with it.  I was in need of some time to be alone with my thoughts.  That has sort of become a common theme for me these days.  I am not going to get into that now.  There will be plenty of time to come for Lisanti revelations. All I can say is I cherished every minute of “Quality ocean time” as Cit put it the very first moment we left the harbor.

After four hours I could make out the big while buildings of City College and knew our time away from the stain of man had come to a close.  Cit woke up, came on deck and we lowered the sails.  The sea went completely calm just a few miles from shore and we motored it back to port.  Just like that it was back to reality.  Its good to escape from life sometimes, I do it a bit more often then I probably should.  Its not like my life is real by any means.  Most people are like why do you need to escape?  Lisanti Land may be a fantasy for you my friends out there in internetville but for it is reality and every so often I need a break.

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A Sea Going Voyage, Part II: Quality Ocean Time

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 31, 2011| 8 Comments »

If you missed Part 1: Gearing Up click here. 

As we motored out of the Santa Barbara Harbor my apprehension quickly turned into excitement and awe.  I had never been on a boat out of the harbor before and I have never been on a real sailboat. There I was first mate on a two man excursion to hopefully score some worth while surf.

Cit immediately began teaching me the names of all the different parts of the boat most of which I forgot leading to his frustration later when asked to do something.  I did actually learn a lot.  I had three main duties: Cooking in the Galley, Operation of the Hook (anchor) and keeping our coarse with the till (long stick used for steering).   Occasionally I had to help raise and lower the sails as well and propeller kelp detail.

The wind was nonexistent for the first 20 miles and it is around a 35 mile shot to the surf spot.  We got a late start no shoving off till after one.  Due to the calm conditions we had nice smooth seas but no wind thus having to use the small out board motor and only making a progress of 5.5 knots an hour.  Slow and steady wins the race.

On the way out we passed buoys laden with seals barking at each other.  The funny thing is I can hear those same seals at night from the patio of my apartment.  It was nice to finally see them up close.  There were all these tourists on kayaks sitting around the buoy staring at them as if they had never seen a seal before.

After about twenty minutes Cit handed me the till and said keep our course on a certain compass reading that I am not going to give out.  It was a warm summer day making visibility only about 15 miles or so thus you could not see the islands allowing navigating by sight to be impossible.  I grabbed the till and at first it was very hard to keep the boat on course with out constantly meandering in a serpentine motion, pissing off Cit.  After about 30 minutes I got into a groove.

We passed the rigs and let me say they are not nearly as nice when you get up close to them.  Most are just weathered boxes on stilts with cranes hanging off them.  I don’t know why I thought there would be more to it then that.  I think I have over glamorized the oilrig life style.  After being near them up close it seems a very solemn life for only the most salty or hardened of souls.  Apparently the majority of them all line up perfectly when you are next to them and it is because they pump along an under water mountain range that runs the channel.  All I know is that I will have a greater appreciation of the rigs next time I stare off at them from the shore.

About 20 miles out Cit yelled “there are dolphins coming up the bow”.  He took the till and let me go up to the front.  I hung off the mast’s suspension cables over the bow and watched and listened to the purposes as they playfully showed us how more capable they are then us at sea travel.  The sun was shinning and the water was the clearest dark blue I have ever seen.  I could not see land on either side of us and I was enjoying the spray on my face as it splashed up over the bow and then trickled down my bare chest sending exhilarating chills through out my body.

I began laughing out loud.  Two months ago I wanted to kill myself over a woman.  A WOMAN! What a waste that would have been.  If it were not for her I would not have even been standing there with the realization of just how wonderful life really is.  The world is an amazing place and I think we get bogged down by life too often and forget all the awe-inspiring things it has to offer.  Two months ago if someone told me I would be hanging off the bow of a sailing vessel playing with dolphins I would have said he were crazy.

There are just so many moments in my life where I just keep expecting to wake from this dream I am living, but I never do.  While everyone else was at Emma Wood getting all grumpy and annul this is what I was doing.  Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.  Sorry I had to just chuckle to myself a little more.

 The King of Beers

At our slow pace, even when we were able to get the sails up we still only were averaging 6 knots, making the journey about a 4-5 hour peregrination.  For this duration Captain Intoxication (why he was garnished with this name) kept cracking and handing me beers.  “When in Rome”, plus it made the trip go by much faster.  By the time we got near the Island both of us were ten beers in each and thrashed.  As Cit put it “I may be a drunk captain, but I am a good captain”.  Honestly the guy really did know his stuff.  I was impressed.  Heck we did not die.

Unlike the rigs the Islands are a magnificent sight up close.  Most consist of sheer hundred plus foot cliffs made of black, white, pink, yellow, brown and red rocks, depending on the mineral type.  Some of the cliffs fall right down into the ocean, while others guard black cobblestone or black sand beaches with no other disturbance then the birds. Atop the cliffs are miles of tall yellow grass, cypress trees and just open space.  The whole area is a protected National Park allowing for no development.

There is wild life everywhere.   Seals swim in large packs, twenty or greater and jump out of the water in unison similar to dolphins.  Purposes swim around, sea otters, jelly fish and birds, tons and tons of sea birds of every variety.  It makes you think that is probably what most of the California coast looked like 200 years ago before man ruined it.  It was breath taking.

 Smugglers Cove

We pulled up at a “safe” anchorage, by the Islands standards.  All of them stick out in the middle of the ocean, where the weather is super fickle and all are uninhabited meaning no man made ports.  As Cit put it “we are pirates out here”.  Smugglers was a small cove semi protected by high cliffs on each side of it.  In the middle was this impressive rock/sand mix beach.  Up the hill from the beach was an old Olive Orchard that sill looked rather tame for not being manned in fifty years.  Cit said there was a ranch house up above the orchid as well.  Initially we were going to row into the beach and check it out, but it was already pretty late when we got there.  Then I cooked up some Rose Mary Chicken and mixed vegetables in tomato sauce.  After eating that and washing it down with the bottle of Merlot we were exhausted from the journey, good and drunk and with waning light decided it was better to chill on deck.

I passed out shortly after.  I awoke sometime in the night freezing cold after getting thrown off the seat I feel asleep in onto the deck.  Still drunk I crawled below deck climbed into my bunk and wrapped myself in my comforter.  In that position I stayed till morning.  Getting drunk off beer is a big mistake, probably my worst handover next to tequila.  Cit and I were definitely hurting from the previous night’s festivities.  The surf was on as we could see 3-4 foot south swells rolling past us and crashing onto the rock covered beach.

We hoisted the anchor, which by the way is a pain in the ass to do manually.  It takes so much strength to get the chain off the bottom and it is heavy as hell.  Not to mention it burns the fuck out of your hands.   We let out 75 feet of chain.  Hook detail fucking sucks and now I know why it is the first mate’s job.  Dropping anchor is a bit easier.  All you have to do is steady the line with your hand as it falls into the water to make sure the chain does not pile up on itself.  Finally it was off to the surf spot.

Stay tuned for Part III: The surfing, Island Adventuring and the Trip Home.

The rigs falling in line

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A Sea Going Voyage: Part I; Gearing up

Posted in Life, News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on July 30, 2011| 3 Comments »

I am going have to postpone this week’s UCB a day or so to write about a “most excellent adventure” to quote Bill and Ted. I was lucky to survive the whole ordeal actually, as my captain put it “if _________ happens you probably wont survive”.  This may take more then one part.  I literally have only been on dry land for a few hours and still feel like I am on a boat, not to mention the fact that I have had in the last three days a total of 10 hours of sleep and being it is my roommate’s last night living in Lisanti Land I promised we would go out to the Wild Cat tonight.  I am going to need a beauty nap at some point before that happens.  We will see how far I get.

A Sailing Trip, with a little bit of surfing and way too much drinking

Being temporarily unemployed is a wonderful thing.  Sure not having a ton of available cash is a bit of a bummer, but having oodles of free time is priceless.  Actually I have been putting a few applications out all over town and have gotten a bite or two, one being very prestigious for an aspiring chef.  I even have some cash work going at the moment as well, but those are blogs for some other time.

Wednesday morning I got a text from an acquaintance of mine who incidentally has a boat and owes me a tad bit of money for some ding work (what else is new, the ding repair business never changes).  “Are you free the next few days” the text read.  I have gotten these texts before and that means one thing: Island trip.  What am I talking about?  The Channel Islands of course, those south swell blocking curses of land that span the length of the coast line of Santa Barbara keeping it flat all summer long.

Those Islands don’t just block the swell they also funnel it in and enhance it at certain surf locales.  This person whom I am going to call Captain Intoxication, Cit for this blogs purposes knows the place like the back of his hand and will stay anonymous as will the actual location where we surfed.  This is to both protect the spot and keep either one of us from being banned from going back.  Also there will be no photos either for the same reason.  Sorry folks, but to make up for it I will try and be as descriptive as possible.

Captain Intoxication (Cit) and His Almost Sea Worthy Vessel

 I have been on stand by all summer long for one of his voyages.  Each time I have been bumped for his regular first mate he has been cruising there with for years.  Finally when I got the call I jumped on it.  I had to move a few things around, but I was not about to let this rare opportunity slip from my grasp.  Cit I found out has a kid on the way in November so life may not grant him the freedom to cut away as much in the future.

Certain influences in my life, those I value rather highly warned me more then once to stay clear of Cit.  I hate having a negative predisposition towards another person on behalf of a third party.  Cit has always been decent to me and never really given any reason not to be trusted.  I needed a pick ax for my garden and he lent me one. I have fixed boards for him and he almost always paid up front.  As far as I was concerned I was willing to entrust my life to him despite the misgivings of others.

After getting to know Cit over the last 48 hours I must say I found him to be an alright guy and I am proud to call him an acquaintance no longer in exchange for friend.  I pulled up to his slip at the docks with two boards (5’11 J7 round pin/5’10 J7 short board), sleeping gear, food for at least 5 meals (frozen chop meat/chicken breast, angel hair pasta, sauce, olive oil, canned vegetables, cookies, granola bars, 4 plums, bacon, dozen eggs, swiss cheese, 1 tomato, garlic, bananas, which went overboard cause of bad luck, a loaf of slice bread and two cloves of garlic, I was after all in charge of the galley), an old, but freshly sharpened santoku knife, 2 gallons of water, two wetsuits and my warmest cloths.  In addition I took along a change of clothes, a camera (never left my bag for fear of Cit throwing it over board), Oliver Twist (yes I am still reading it, I have been busy so get off my back), a bottle of merlot and sun block.  I don’t know why I felt the need to jot down the contents of my provisions, but it may prove beneficial later on in the story.

The Boat

 She floats, was the first thought that came into my mind and truth be told the 25-foot sailing sleuth was although beat up far better then anything I expected.  Once a few years back some friends and I stupidly believed we could get to the Ranch from Gaviota State Beach in an old beat up rubber ducky that was supposedly “water tight” with an electric motor that barely clocked the little boat 4 knots an hour.  This is definitely a good blog for some other time, but long story short we ended up deflating about 5 miles in and had to paddle the vitiate craft in on our backs.  It was a mistake I did not want to repeat again, but left me with low expectations for his boat.

The mast looked solid, the jib was good.  It had a small but adequate two bunk cabin, new radio, GPS, an out board motor, rescue skiff, a small two gas burner range with a sink and life jackets.  She needed a coat of paint, but besides that was more then sea worthy and in the harbor looked rather impressive.  Let me tell the reader that 25 feet is very small when you’re in the open ocean taking swells over the bow.

We stowed all the gear, tied up the sails, battened down the hatches, filled the water and gas tanks and shoved off.  Look for more on the voyage there and adventures from the island in Part II.

The Channel Islands

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Oh That Summer Time: June Surfing 2011

Posted in Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 27, 2011| 5 Comments »

June was quite the month. We had a few shitty wind swells, a few shitty south swells, but overall very little to get excited about.  As a matter of fact I think I have been more excited by watching Alfie switch sleeping spots all day.  June was also a break out month for me.  It was the month I stopped feeling sorry for myself and began surfing again instead of blaming it for all my problems.  That being the case I made the most out of every day of surf we had.  Here is how the month of June broke down.  By the way I have not done write ups on April or May so you will probably see those in the next few weeks.  Don’t forget to visit the Surflog to read about my surfing and life chronicled journal style everyday.

Number of Surf Sessions: 18
Days Surfed: 17
Time Spent in the Water: 27 hours
Number of Waves Surfed: 387
Waves per Hour: 14

Spots Surfed:
New Jetty – 5
Santa Clara River Mouth – 3
Stanleys – 2
Emma Wood – 2
C Street – 1
Zuma Beach – 1
Leo Carrillo – 1
Gold Coast – 1
Dredge – 1
Rincon – 1

Top 3 Sessions

3. 6/7/11 AM Session: 2-4+ft, Zuma Beach
Time in Water: 2hrs
Waves Surfed: 38
I love Zuma.  Its one of my favorite waves in LA.  Sure its nothing more then heavy closed out glorified shore break, but I think by now everyone should know that is right up my ally.  Did I mention the backwash is sometimes bigger then the wave your paddling for?  The place can amplify just about any south swell in the water.  I checked Ventura Harbor early and it was looking doable but rather meager for my personal taste.  I knew my buddy Kevin was going down there and gave him a call to hitch a ride.  We cruised to Zuma and it was chest to head high and super punchy.  The wind was a bit onshore but it looked boostable to me.  As usual when I am at Zuma my froth meter goes berserk.  I tore on my suit and was out there for a boost and barrel fest.  Then after an hour it glassed off, but  got super lully.  Still there were some choice nugs to sink your teeth into.  I was having a ball till some local decided to sit right on top of me even though there were plenty of peaks for everyone. I tried to paddle away but the dude kept following me.  Finally I was just plain over it, stuck a backside air reverse and called it a day.  Stick that in your pipe and smoke it angry local with all your super cool fly aways.

2. 6/5/11 PM Session: 3-5ft, Dredge
Time in the Water: 2.5hrs
Waves Surfed: 34
I got out of church and had four missed calls from all my Ventura friends.  I knew there was going to be some minor bump up in wind swell but I just figured I would nonchalantly cruise down to Emma Wood on high tide.  I called back my boy Ryan and he was frothing on Dredge.  Ryan rarely is stoked on anything so if he was pumped I knew I had to get down there.  Sure enough it was solid chest to head high with the occasional bigger set with very nice long right hand lines.  Some were easily peeling for 75 to 100 yards, an anomaly for Dredge.  There were about six guys on it and some slight cross chop from the SW wind.  I got out there and for the first hour it was a bit bumpy and just when I was about to bag it the wind died out and things glassed off.  For the next hour and a half it was a playground.  I had at least four that I nailed no less then nine turns on.  I would have surfed longer but I was exhausted between all the paddling, surfing and walking back up the beach.  What a great day of surfing.

1. 6/14/11 AM Session: 3-5ft, New Jetty

Time In Water: 3hrs
Waves Surfed: 35

A serious lack of motivation had me slacking this morning.  A small jump up on the buoys had me give it a shot.  Next thing I know Im standing on the dunes looking a super fun combo swell peaks at New Jetty, glassy, head high and only a few guys out.  Well it did not take me much time to throw on my suit and jump in the water.  I was joined by my friends Bobby B and Gordo, both happily married with kids, thus helping to restore my faith in relationships.  All I can say is I had a ball and surfed amazing as well.  What a session.  Everyone was just going off and super stoked to be out there.  As depressed as I was on both Sunday and Monday that is how stoked I was today.  A good surf always puts things in perspective.

 

Talk about excitement. Nobody knows how to have a good time quite like Alife.

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The Crystal Ball

Posted in Deep Thoughts, Surfing, User Choice BLog, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 23, 2011| Leave a Comment »

This weeks UCB makes a victor of my boy Scotty B.  You have to watch out for those sleeping giants and back in the Myspace days Bees ran the show in the UCB franchise.  It seems we have a new challenger to the Kooky Kyle dynasty.  I thought for sure it was going to be a two way race between Kook and Kooky, but now a new contender has stepped up.  I must say I am rather amused by the whole UCB process, too much probably.

A New Proclamation

 Before I get into Scott’s topic I quickly wanted to make another UCB announcement.  This one is sort of a counter action to last weeks rule of 5: One can only make 5 UCB suggestions in a 7 day period (See the first two paragraphs of Pitching a Tent blog for a better explanation of the new rule).  Last week I wrote a really fun bonus UCB entitled You’re a Fucking Idiot, But So Am I in which I took ten one word topics from Nick the Kook and wrote ten short responses to them.

I did this sarcastically because I was angry about all the serial suggesting going on. It turns I wrote one of the better blogs and definitely one of the more amusing in a while.  As I result I am making a new blog rule: Once a month I will write a special double points UCB where I will take ten one word suggestions made by one reader and write ten short answers.  Everyone can submit one set of top ten topics a month and I will write about my favorite ten.  Read the above linked blog to fully understand.  I think it will be a ton of fun for all of us.

Now let us get back to Scott’s blog.  He proposed I write about my thoughts on surf forecasting.  I am almost sure I have touched on this subject more then once here, but redundancy is what makes America awesome!

The Double Edged Sword

 I love the advances in modern day surf forecasting.  As a premium member of surfline.com I can get a very accurate three day, an accurate five day, reliable seven day and a 14 day speculation.  For a surf addict like myself, I must admit I have become quite the frother again; it makes attempting to live in the non-surfing world a tad bit easier.  That being said my life is still planned out by the five day forecast and I still find that I’m reluctant to make any long range plans for fear of missing it, although I have gotten a lot better as far as blowing things and people off to surf.  But this is not about my onerous surf habit.

Thanks to the accuracy of forecasting today you can plan trips on the fly and know you are most likely not to be skunked.  I remember a few years back Sean McGrath and I pulled the trigger on a trip down to Puerto Rico after getting a favorable long range forecast and we scored some of the best Wilderness and Table Tops I have ever seen down there.  We did not quite get it as good as we were hoping, but it was a ton better then the times I just blindly went.

Of course there is the inaccuracy as well.  There are so many factors that effect quality to surf that I am amazed at how often they get it right.  I mean wind, tide, global currents, water temperature, air temperature, frontal systems, El Nino, La Nina, all these factors mess with a swell realizing its full potential at a certain location and on the other hand allow for other less likely swell events to pleasantly surprise.  That is what has always made surfing the true oxymoron both frustrating as hell and extraordinary.

Sure when Surfline.com is claiming for Tuesday to be the day of days and I clear my entire calendar out on that day and its two foot and onshore, I am more then disappointed.  Usually I am on the dunes at Ventura harbor kicking sand or at Rincon throwing rocks spouting more then a few displeasing to the ear four letter words.

Then there are those times when the opposite happens and I had expected very little, show up and score it.  Two weeks ago actually there was some local NW wind swell and west groundswell combo.  Surfline.com was calling flat for Rincon all weekend, as would be expected for the time of year.  As it turned out the place broke in the very legit chest to head range for three days (see the surflog for more details on that).  There was nobody there but the hardcore crew of people who check the place everyday no matter what.  This leads to the next and final topic.

The Fucking Hype!!!

 Remember a paragraph ago or so when I was talking about that epic Tuesday that I cleared my calendar out for.  Guess what?  I’m not the only person to have that idea.  The Internet is a highly traveled place and there are hundreds if not thousands of sites dedicated to letting everyone know when the surf is firing and where it will be on.  That being the case on that faithful Tuesday when I show up at the crack of dawn (ok, more like after 8ish.  I live in Santa Barbara and have to drive 45 minutes to surf on most occasions) I am not by myself, not even a little.

There will be a guaranteed grip of people looking to get their surf on.  It will be a grand melting pot of the surfing spectrum, the hard core, the pros, the kooks, the valley guys, the weekend warriors taking a day off for a change, photogs and everything in between.  We will all be out there enjoying the same blown out two foot surf.  Then on Wednesday when it was suppose to be down, the surf is sure to be six foot, offshore and barreling.  God bless the great advances in modern surf forecasting.

Forecast or not, the potential to score is out there. The question is what length are you willing to go to find it?

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You Are a Fucking Idiot, but So Am I

Posted in Anger, Surfing, User Choice BLog, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 16, 2011| 12 Comments »

Alright, so I’m dropping a special UCB tonight.  I am also adding an amendment to the UCB rule book as a result of certain recent participants getting a bit out of hand with their suggestions.  I love all the enthusiasm but this is a little bit ridiculous.  Listen up everyone for now on you can only submit 5 UCB Topics in a seven-day period.  It will be seven days from your 5th posting.  For example if you post your 5th suggestion for the period on a Tuesday then you have to wait for that next Tuesday before you can throw down another suggestion.

 

If you break this rule then if I decide to use your UCB topic the points will go to whoever the previous week’s winner was.  So be weary of this and make those topics count cause I am tired of getting Christmas style lists of barely qualified topics.  You also run the risk of me showing up at your house with a sock full of pennies and beating the piss out of you.  With that out of the way Nick the Kook takes the win on a special edition of the UCB and earns 1 point. This is what happens when you throw down too many topics.

 

Here is the shopping list Kook presented me with:

1. hipsters
2. end of the world
3. sharting
4. clogging the toilet
5. pearl necklace
6. surfing really fucking cold water/conditions
7. 5 reasons why Florida sucks
8. worst song youve ever heard
9. the cost of printer ink
10. dumbest ucb that has won

I am going to answer each one of these topics in as concise an answer as possible thus taking them all off the market forever.

 

  1. Hipsters: I don’t really understand the current hipster trend and truth be told I also don’t give a shit about it either.  So they where stupid cloths that are two sizes too small, talk like morons, have bad facial hair and dumb hair cuts.  They also seldom get laid meaning more for me!  P.S.  when I wear jeans that tight every lady and queer in the room is staring at my junk, but those hipster guys must have some of the worlds smallest cocks cause they never have any bulge showing, not that I am a bird watcher, just stating a fact.

 

  1. End of The World:  Some people think the world is going to end in December of next year. I guess only time will tell.  I remember when the world was supposed to end ten years ago back in 1999 with all that y2k bull shit.  Guess what folks, we are still here.  All I can say on this one is that if you live everyday like its your last, take nothing for granted, cherish ever single moment and be the best you can possibly be then I would not worry about it.  Everyone is going to die.  The question is did they really live?

 

  1. Sharting:  Sharting is just plain fucking disgusting.  Everyone has done it at least once in his or her life.  It sucks and can be embarrassing at an inopportune moment, although I suppose there really is no good moment to have a shart happen. For those of you who are more dignified then my Jersey brethren a shart is when you fart and accidentally shit your pants instead.  It’s not a pretty sight.  I once knew this kid I surfed with called Shart because apparently he shit his pants at a party and threw his underwear in the bathroom garbage pail opting to go commando. Next day the kid’s mom of the house Shart was partying at found the nasty ass pair of draws.  He as been Shart ever since.

 

  1. Clogging The Toilet:  These just keep getting better.  I’m very glad for the invention of the toilet.  Before that people took piss and shits in either little bowls and dumped it outside or used a giant human litter box that was kept under the staircase on the first floor of the house.  One complaint I do have is that modern day toilets, especially those good for nothing low flow ones clog easy as hell.  I’m sorry but I only shit about once a day so when it goes down I fill the fucking bowl.  This usually leads to clogging.  Now in my house there is always a plunger right next to the toilet so if you get into said scenario you can get yourself out.  I have been in the homes of others where there was none to be found. Then I find myself pouring water from a cup into the tank to try and add more water pressure.  It becomes a nightmare.  Moral of the story: Keep a plunger in your bathroom or risk being left with a nasty floater. 

5. Pearl Necklace: Wow these are just literally going down the crapper, well not in the case of the last two or even this one for that matter.  I could be an old fart or a square and write about how I think pearls are very sexy when worn by a woman to accompany a formal gown. Alas I know that is not the pearl necklace Kook is talking about. Here is the Urban Dictionary definition of Pearl Necklace: the glorious culmination of tit-fucking, in which you blow your nuts out all over a girl’s tits, shoulders, neck, and, with any luck, chin. one of the highest expressions of love and affection bestowable upon a  woman by a man. I do not agree with this at all.  As a matter of fact I keep my semen to myself and have never blown a load on a chick in my entire life even if I was asked to.  I have too much respect for women in general to do such a feat even if she does not have enough self-respect to know any better.

  1. Surfing Really Cold Water/Conditions:  I grew up in such conditions and have scored some of the best sessions of my life on days most would not even think about coming out from under the covers.  That being said I moved out of that garbage almost five years ago and have not looked back since.  Give me the shitty cold, crowded blown out conditions of Central California any day.

 7. Worst Song I Have Ever Heard:  I don’t know, I have heard a ton of bad songs.  I would have to say just about anything country is the worst song I have ever heard.

 

  1. Five Reasons Florida Sucks:
  1. Rednecks
  2. Old People
  3. Mushy Waves
  4. Portuguese Men of War
  5. Midwestern tourists

 9.The Cost of Printer Ink:  Why is printer ink so expensive?  I mean its ink right.  I think it is because you have to buy those stupid cartridges.  Why cant we just open up a slot and pour in ink like typewriters used to be?  It is all a set up to jack us for more hard earned money.

 

10. Dumbest UCB That Has Ever Won:  I think we have a winner right here.  Congratulations Kook.  That was fucking exhausting.

These guys are sooo cool.

 

Four birds with one stone. Here we have a Florida redneck clogging a toilet after sharting his pants while giving his girlfriend a pearl necklace.

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Orange County Can Keep Lowers

Posted in News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 13, 2011| 14 Comments »

Picture perfect Lowers. Isn't it grand when things look good on paper?

Ahhh…summertime in Santa Barbara, what a great time to be here according to tour books and international visitors.  If you’re a surfer on the other hand summer it is all about hassle, especially if one decides to keep surfing through the season.  Sure there is the occasional short period wind swell day here and there, but for the bulk of the time the channel is a complete lake.  That is just how the tourists like it here on the “American Riviera”.

Best bet if you surf, go on an extended trip, crash at a friends pad for the season down in Orange or San Diego Counties or find another way to occupy your time.  For me summertime is all about surfing marginal waves for which I drive nearly forty miles each way to get.  There is nothing better then burning $5 a session in gas to go surf garbage.  Ok, its not that bad, I mean most of the time it is far better then what I would be surfing back in NJ this time of year.  I’m just jaded these days.  Five years in California will do that to a person, especially up here where beach breaks are scarce and good points and reefs the norm.

Usually by this time in the summer I have scored a good day at Malibu or Jalama, even a sick day or two at River Mouth.  This year unfortunately that has not been the case.  A good south swell was forecasted for early week and two opportunities for me to get some quality surf for a change presented themselves.  The first a boat trip out to the Channel Islands.  This was the one I really hoped would materialize, but just like that ranch connection that never comes through, it never happened.

Luckily my boy Kevin and his friends, Luis and Jeremy were eager to make the three hour trek south to Trestles just south of San Clemente.  For my non-surfing readers Trestles is one of the most famous surf spots in the United States and one of the top in the world as well.  It is considered by most the hot bed for progressive surfing in the continental US.  Anyone who is anyone has surfed the wave at some point in his/her life.  Its one of those places every serious surfer should visit before death.

Basically Trestles consists of a collection of coble stone reef breaks with in a ten mile span of beach.  Going north to south you have Cottons, a mushy left that can be fun on the right swell direction, wind and tide and usually has the least crowd factor.  Then there is Uppers a rather punchy right with the occasional closed out left that draws a sizable crowd being it is the closest break from the trail.  Following Uppers you have Lowers, the crown jewel of Trestles offering a 50-100 yard wally left and a 100-250+ yard right that although a bit softer allows for just about anything the imagination has in store when it comes to wave riding.

Lowers is always packed with everything form top pros, to hot up and coming groms, to kooks, long boarders and every type of surf tourist you can imagine.  That being said if you just get one or two good ones you will be more then satisfied.  After Lowers you will come to Middles, a collection of mainly closed out bowls that serve up on the right day some fun killable peaks and is a refreshing break from its always crowded counter parts.  The most discouraging thing about Middles is one has to watch lowers peel off perfectly in the distance, while surfing short ended closeouts.

Finally after middles you have Churches, a usually mushy and sectiony right hander more known for long boarding then anything else.  On the right day though the place can fire.  I surfed there about five years ago and it was solid overhead and dredging for easily 150 yards.

I used to fancy all the spots at Trestles, opting to surf Lowers as little as possible just to avoid the horrendous crowds.  These days being a Californian now and a seasoned Rincon aficionado I have become completely desensitized to stupid obnoxious crowds.  I always get my waves eventually anyway and would much rather catch fewer waves that are really good then a bunch of garbage any place else.

We showed up at Lowers Monday (7-11) and it was solid 6-8ft with bigger sets and to my surprise only had about twenty guys on it.  The wind was a little bit funky but there were still great left and rights coming in.  The lefts had more juice then the rights.  I went out there and absolutely frothed for three hours.  I have never surfed out at Lowers and pretty much had my pick of waves.  I mean there was still plenty of scraping and jostling to get the good ones but it was nowhere near as intense as usual.

I went in for lunch and hung out on the beach before paddling back out for the evening glass off session.  The tide had gotten a bit higher, but the surf filled in a little more and it was very clean.  Unfortunately the crowd came in with the tide and it got really shifty.  Between both those factors getting the good ones became very frustrating.  I did manage to snag one huge right I managed around eight turns on and two really fun lefts, one I stuck a crazy vertical tail free thing, where I came completely unglued on the re-entry yet somehow managed to recover and then get three more turns.  The last I had a solid ally-oop.  It was a good day of surfing.

After a double session and an entire day at the beach I was over Trestles and ready to come home.  My compadres unfortunately for me were still stoked.  I soon found myself in my least favorite situation: camping.  We got ourselves a plot over at San Onofre State Beach on the bluffs.  Luckily my boy Kevin had a two man tent and a queen size blow up mattress making the night more bearable.  The boys and I lit a solid camp fire (you know how much I love fire), talked some story, and ate a gigantic pizza made for us by this crazy skin head dude who was completely tattooed from head to toe at a local joint in San Clemente. The pie was surprisingly not bad or I was so hungry it did not matter.  I would bank on the latter.

Next morning thanks to certain lazy members of the group we got a super late start, getting to Lowers after ten.  We parked and walked up from San-O.  Let me give the reader a sound piece of advice: that is not the way to go.  The walk is ten times harder; being one has to trek across hot soft sand for an easy two hundred yards.  To our dismay Lowers was blown to shit and there were easily 75 guys on it, six cameras on the beach, wannabe pros and invidious colored wetsuits everywhere.

I did manage to run into my old photographer Dave Molleck as he was cruising.  It was nice to catch up with him after moving to New Port for more opportunity to make it as a surf photographer.  Not stoked I watched it for over an hour as the sun burned the fuck out of my skin (a fact I am not enjoying today). Finally Kevin and I forced ourselves to give it a go and by far it was the most demoralizing sessions ever.

I have not been in a shit fight for waves like that since last summer at Malibu.  It was a straight up battlefield out there.  I literally had to push a 14 year old hot headed grom off a wave.  I was already up on the left and he stood up to try and backdoor the right.  He yelled at me and I grabbed his arms and sent him off the back.  That was my first good wave out there.  When I was kid I would never challenge a person of higher rank then myself for a wave, alas times have changed.

After about and hour and a half the crowd died and I began getting some really good right-handers.  I had three in row where I banged out 6-10 solid turns.  I would have surfed another two hours but after two and half hours already I was completely strung out from the previous day and all the exhausting lineup jockeying.  As I was getting out Dane Reynolds showed up and absolutely destroyed the place.  I have surfed with Dane a bunch of times, but have never seen him surf Lowers.  The guy made every other surfer out there look like a kook and judging from my knowledge of his ability he was having an off session for him.

I was contemplating another session before cruising, but I was sun burnt, completely enervate and eager to get back up to the “Barb” by a decent hour.  Looking back I probably should have sucked it up and paddled.  This was the first time I had been back at Lowers in three years and I think I am good for another three years.  Give me a good day at Rincon any day.  Winter is coming!!!!!

The reality of surfing Lowers.

The reality of surfing Lowers.


LNF: Lowers Raid! from Lastnamefirst.tv on Vimeo.

 

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The Return to Surf Beach

Posted in News From Lisanti Land, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on July 5, 2011| 37 Comments »

Fuck the 4th of July, what a terrible day.  As far as Im concerned it could be whipped off the calender altogether.  I mean whoopty fucking doo for America and all, but I think I will sit this one out thank you.  That being said the initial plan for the day was to sleep for majority then move on to heavy drinking, moving on to straight up black out drunk.  Even the best plans of mice and men go astray in life.  I awoke at 6:30 am with a shitty head ache from drinking till I passed out the night before (aint alcoholism grand folks?).

The sound was excruciating in my ears, likened to a blaring knife piercing my ear drums deep into my brain.  Then I realized it was just the sound of my cell phone ringing.  Lindsay being the persistent little one she is kept calling till I got reluctantly got out of bed to take her surfing.  I checked the report and buoys and things looked less then appetizing.  On a hail Mary mission I decided to strike out for Jalama.  I had yet to make it up there this season and what better time then on a Holiday when it was bound to be crowded, small and windy.  Happy 4th of July!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Also I have been dying to test my car’s handling capabilities on the Jalama road.  Since Im still alive we can safely agree that it passed (Death wish foiled #1).

Upon arriving to the bluff over looking Cracks it became obvious that the tide was way too low and the SW wind already taking a toll on it.  On the plus side there was almost no one out.  Against my better judgement (who am I kidding I knew exactly what I was about to get myself into.  One phrase: Death Wish Baby!) and Lindsay’s mortification I made the call to run up to Surf Beach.  For those of you who don’t know about surf beach it is this sketchy, sharky, cold, unruly beach break just north of Jalama on Vandenburg AFB.

Surf Beach was featured in many of the old myspace.com blogs and just recently here on surfingruinedmylife.net in the blog: When We Become Food, about a fatal shark attack that happened there in October of 2010.  Since that incident I had not surfed up at Surf Beach.  The place has always been known to be sharky and the entire time out there one is constantly looking over his shoulder in wonderment of what may be lurking beneath.  Its a deep water spot out in the middle of no where and more times then not it is super foggy and there is no one surfing.  I have soloed it there too many times to count and let me tell you all those times I was pretty much shaking in my booties the entire time.

I pretty much avoided the place like the plague for the past nine months.  This morning I found myself standing on the dunes above the lineup staring out into an empty ocean with a solid marine layer making the outside bar unrecognizable.  I saw four guys paddle out but never saw them again once they entered the fog bank.  Lindsay was dead set on not surfing and I was hardly motivated.  The only redeeming factor for me was that I wasted the time and gas to get up there, when I could have already had polished off my first bottle of wine for the day.  Bye bye liver, hello dialysis (Death wish plan #2 foiled).   Nah, if my liver goes I’m just going to sharpen up the Samurai sword I found in the trash outside my apartment and commit seppuku.

Ultimately we saw a set of rights run down this sand bar that got us frothing and we decided to forgo our original hesitations, shark or no shark we were on it.  The water was surprisingly warmer then I had expected and was fairly tolerable.   Lindsay and I got out there and the fog immediately got thicker and the four other guys whom we had seen paddle out were no where to be found.  After nearly twenty minutes of strenuous paddling I made it to the outside bar.  I looked back for Lindsay but she was no where to be found.  I managed to get a few choice rides out there before realizing I had fallen victim to the intense current and needed to get out and walk back up the beach.

Im not going to lie I was a bit scared to be out a few hundred yards from the beach with forty feet of water under me and a fog bank too thick to see more then five feet in either direction.  The first thought that went through my head was that if I got taken no one would even find out till Lindsay gave up on me.  Then my death wish instincts kicked in and I was well at ease.  Of course with my luck being the way it is I survived unscathed by the mouth of the sea’s most vicious predator (Death wish #3 foiled!!).  We surfed two drifts before calling it a day.  After the second drift we had not realized the current had shifted polarity thus walking the complete opposite direction in the fog for an easy 500 yards.   Surf Beach is like the mother fucking Bermuda Triangle.

Lindsay was a bit freaked out by the whole experience, meanwhile I was rather proud of myself to finally get over the fear I have harbored for Surf Beach through the last nine months.  It always feels good to conquer any type of  adversity.  I also realized that I guess I’m just not going to die.  For whatever reason no matter how hard I push the envelope God just wont let me leave this earth.  Everyone says its because he has a higher calling for me.  I just think he wants me to rove across the planet for all of eternity perpetually pathetic and alone.  Whatever the case as long as there is internet you will be able to be entertained by my daily torment, the torment of living.

On the way home I pushed my luck even further by giving a ride to a sketchy character who had just gotten off the train from LA and needed a ride into Lompoc.  I guess he had been shot down by everyone else in the lot.  I looked at it as a prime opportunity to get that stabbing I have been hoping for out of the way (read the opening paragraph of A Guilty Pleasure to get the lowdown on that).  Turns out John was a really nice guy who had just moved to Lompoc and is studying business at SBCC.  He used to work as a cook back in LA.  He was a totally chill guy whom I was able to stoke out without doing anything more then giving him a ride to a destination I was passing through anyhow (death wish #4 foiled).  Lindsay was super against it and all I had to say to her was that there may come a time when she is in need and would be so lucky to be graced with a similar kindness.

After that I treated us to a victory lunch at a spot John recommended called the Jalama Beach Cafe.  All I can say is that the food was superb and the service top notch.  If you ever find yourself in Lompoc be sure to stop in to the Jalama beach cafe for a bite.  I know it will be my new spot for every Lisanti Adventure Tour that makes its way up there.  That folks is how I turned what was to be one of the emotionally hardest days of my life into a bit of positive.  As Biggie Smalls says in Juicy “I love my life because I went from negative to positive”.

Fun surf, but what lurks beneath?

Spared this time...

Just about as gnarly as a shark attack, seppuku.

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I heart PGCBs

Posted in Deep Thoughts, Surfing, User Choice BLog, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 23, 2011| 14 Comments »

Looks like a good one eh? Nope, its a left close-out at Hammonds, a right hand reef break. I could have taken the right but decided otherwise and broke my board.

This is the last UCB of the Spring Quarter.  I know it has been a bit of bullshit quarter, but what the fuck do you want from me.  It’s been the worst few months of my entire life.  Sorry if I missed a few weeks.  At this point 2011 may go down as the shittiest year in the history of Lisanti Land.  God I hate fucking Lisanti Land.  Why can’t I get a vacation from it?

Everyone else gets to visit and leave.  What sucks about being Chris Lisanti is that it’s always Lisanti Land 24/7.  I can’t leave. It’s like being on the fucking Truman Show.  All things considered I guess I should not complain.  I am still alive after all, have my physical health (my mental health went out the window a few weeks ago), there is a roof over my head and I get enough to eat.  Things could be worse I suppose.  They say no one dies from a broken heart, although I would beg to differ.

John Mauriello wins this UCB with the topic PGCB.  I know more then a few readers when they saw his request were thinking “What the fuck does that mean”.  Well PGCB is a term that Scotty B and I coined back in the first round blow out days of our almost “pro” carreers.  The whole movement started courtesy of Ventura Professional Surfer Sean Hayes and his segment in “The Decline of Surfing Civilization: Lost Across America II”.

If you have not seen any of the early 2000 …Lost surf films you are missing out and I highly recommend watching them.    They are some of the gnarliest surf films out there both in surfing and lifestyle.  …Lost single handedly defined the punk rock, “I don’t give a fuck” surfing movement of the mid 2000’s with the production of these films.  I know I personally thrived on them.

There is a segment mid way through the film just about completely filmed in both Ventura and Santa Barbara.  The bulk of it is at some pretty flawless yet excruciatingly crowded Rincon.   Towards the end the segment shows a brief clip of Hayes surfing triple overhead maxed out Ventura Beach break.  He is just pulling into these massive closeout tubes and getting destroyed.

Finally the segment ends with him pulling into a bomb, saluting the beach before getting completely owned.  Watching that as a kid I just thought what a crazy motherfucker, now that I have surfed that spot in the film I have a new respect for his feat.  That place packs a punch when it’s four feet let alone fifteen!  As he is walking back up the beach to the parking lot he says “I don’t know why none one else is out here; there is nothing but Perfectly Good Closed-out Barrels”.  Thus the term PGCB was born, which if you are dense and have not figured it out yet stands for Perfectly Good Closed-out Barrels.

Then I realized that the majority of my favorite surf spots and conditions were nothing more then gnarly, heavy closed-out beach break.  In NJ that was very understandable because that was the case with the bulk of our swells.  Since then I have moved to the land of the right point breaks, Santa Barbara California. Even in such an environment I still have some of my most fun in perfectly good closed out barrels.

I guess there is a certain kind of rush one gets out of pulling into a stupid barrel he knows he is not going to even come close to coming out of.  I know I do.  Plus close outs just have so much more power then regular waves.  All those huge airs and crazy flips you see being done are pulled mostly on heaving closeouts.  That is just the way it is.  I suppose the surfer in me loves point breaks more then any other type of wave in the world, but my heart will always be for the heaviest, most angry, gnarly, back washy stupid close out there is.  Long live the PGCB!

My favorite part about closeouts, airs!

This is the infamous spot where the term and life long search for the PGCB began,on another day that was nothing more then Perfectly Good Closed Out Barrles 🙂

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Kooky Kyle Speaks Out

Posted in Blast From the Past, Life, Surfing, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 4, 2011| 11 Comments »

Its rare that I let anyone else have any word time here at Surfingruinedmylife.net except for in the comments, where of course you can sound off on anything you like.  Kooky Kyle as everyone knows took the UCB championship last year thus winning his self expensive paid trip out to Lisanti Land.  He finally booked and actually arrived to Santa Barbara this previous March.    I told Kooky if he felt so inclined to write up a summary of his Lisanti Adventure Tour and if I thought it worth while I would post it here.

Initially this blog was suppose to be posted right after he left, but as soon as he left my relationship with Ades when bad.   Unfortunately for Kooky his blog got shelved in the vault of unwritten blogs (stay tuned for a possible new segment called blogs that did not make the cut.  I actually write nearly double the amount of blogs that I post.  Some nights I come home trashed from the bar and write the strangest things, some are just ludicrous rants, others just took too long for me to finish and thus the moment passed).  Poor Kyle’s blog fell into that category, most likely never to be seen by the public.

Well my friends although three months late here is Kooky’s take on his week in Lisanti Land.  It was suppose be published right after the “Kooky Kyle’s Chris Lisanti Adventure Tour” Blog . I would give that a perusal as well to refresh your memory or bring you up to speed if your new here, also you can compare both his take and mine on the same set of days.  Similar to the blast from the past blogs I will put any hind sight notes in Red.

 ——————————————————————————————————————————————————

I first met Chris the way many of the SRL characters met him, back in the 3rd ave surf shop. Chris was a messianic like figure, sacrificing himself for surfing instead of humanity. Compared to others from that period in Lisanti Land, I did not get to spend as much time with him due to my predicament of residing in the middle of Maryland the majority of the year. For whatever reason, he eventually accepted me into his circle and much to my displeasure gave me the nickname Kooky Kyle (which to my dismay has followed me to college) I did spend some time with Lisanti building out the now gone Dings on Demand. I told my parent’s Chris was paying me, which was a lie, so I would not have to return to MD.

By my sophomore year at UNCW Chris had moved out to California. That spring, when I helped him pack his things as he got ready to leave NJ for good, Chris extended me his invitation to come visit. I took him up on it and booked a ticket for my last spring break. Due to ridiculous airline rules, my short temper and the circumstances under which I was visiting the trip was botched and our friendship almost ended there. I tried booking again in December to come visit but as a result of some glitch, my connecting flight from the east coast did not have the connecting flight to CA. Third time was the charm and I got out to CA march 11.

Based on statistics this trip seemed like a bad idea. Late season in a La Nina year, all arrows pointed towards surfing blown out beach break. But the best laid plans fall through and when one flies by the seat of their pants they are rewarded. 10 days in Lisanti Land resulted in roughly 24 hours of actual surfing.  And not at shitty C-street or ventura.

I knew the trip wouldn’t be a complete skunking when John got in touch with me and informed me that he too would be in Santa Barbara for my first weekend. It also looked like the surf would be coming to the party. I got on my flight for a change too, and then it was game on. Of course my luck is not perfect, tsunami warnings had my parents fretting . I touched down in LAX and took the shuttle to Santa Barbara, driving up the coast is an experience. “This must be C-street, that must be Pitas, that must be little Rincon, and there is Rincon.  Once off the shuttle I attempted to find the trail to Chris’s apartment but if you don’t know what you are looking at, the thing looks like a washed out strip on the hill. Luckily Chris was out from class early and he picked me up and we checked Sandbar, which was just a little too high.

After checking in with John and Brennan we hopped on the freeway to go surf Rincon, but the traffic was impossibly thick, instead we settled on Hammonds. John and Brennan met us in the parking lot for a sunset session and then we headed back to Chris’s apartment where we pregamed for the wildcat.  Everyone who comes here gets at least one crazy night at the Wild Cat.  Due to a lack of forsight, I neglected to mention my peculiar dietary habits (Kooky does not eat pork or beef, but will eat rabbit and venison) and was only able to eat the dirty rice, which was stellar.

I do not remember much of the shitty kitty, but I am told I was quite entertaining before I disappeared into the night. Blacked out I almost made it home, but made a wrong turn. Adrienne luckily came to the rescue and I passed out on the futon. I woke up $26 gone from my wallet, a handful of condoms, and a blue tire cap in my pockets.

John and Brennan had to head back to San FranFabulous, and once they were gone, Chris and I surfed Rincon, I got some that ran and even got a few turns and a barrel or two. The next day Chris had to head down to Ventura for car shopping and other errands. Since the swell was down up in SB it was a better bet for waves.(see surf log). Anyways, the car shopping was quite amusing, Chris has to be the most difficult person to sell a car to.

Sales person: “What are you looking for?”
Chris: “A car”
Sp: “what kind of car?”
C:“one that drives”

No enthusiasm, no emotion, just total apathy. See the More Shackles blog for more on this. One car dealership had no one on the lot, no prices on the cars and pretty much no one inside. When we finally found someone he brought out a rack of car keys and let us check out the cars. “Yea we should have the deeds to most of these cars” and “Yea if you guys want to test drive you can just take one of the cars” sketched us out about the place pretty badly. I still can’t believe how dumb Moses (the guy whom I bent over when I bought my car) and his whole dealership was giving Chris that car with no money down, a blank starter check, no deed to Sammy, no proof of insurance, and a terrible credit history. If you want to steal a car, Bunnin autogroup can make it happen easier than you would think possible.

Tuesday Chris had to size up some suits so we hit up all the surf shops in town, and being in town we checked Sandbar. Chris was not too excited about it, but considering how rarely it breaks, I seized the opportunity to surf it and made him surf it. At first he seemed pretty pissed about it, but once he got some waves he cheered up and was getting plenty of waves. I actually did get some really fun waves that session although I still think Rincon would have been better and I heard EL Cap was good.

Two days later we hit gold. El Capitan broke.  El Cap breaks good like three times a year. That wave is amazing, the bank there is engineered to create the most perfect spinning pits one can imagine. Sure it was packed as hell, and I had to fight for every wave, but I got a few great barrels, probably the best of my life. It was a bit rattling to have rocks thrown at me. I feel I was completely unobtrusive and stayed out of people’s way, but tensions were running high when we got out as the swell had dropped and the crowd had increased. Whatever, it was an amazing session

Chris has always imparted his fucked up wisdom to his little disciples. Whether it be on women, waves, car shopping, music or life plans he has been through some shit and usually has a worthwhile two cents to put in. After talking with him I have come to realize I can finally do the surf travel I have always wanted to do before I get locked into a career or a relationship (that’s right ladies, I am open for joy rides).

The trip was completely worth it. The food was fantastic, the company stellar, and the surf was great even if the wind was being an uncooperative bitch at times. Though all things considered it kept the crowds down and allowed me to get some waves. I strongly suggest those of you readers out there who have never entered a UCB submission to do so. If you don’t play you can’t win, and quite frankly I feel like Slater in 1999 unchallenged for my dominance here, bored and contemplating retirement. This trip is very worth it, quite frankly if we had an off day of surfing I would not have been disappointed, there was plenty of fun shit to do.

The time period when this blog came out I was oblivious that Ades was unhappy or that she was cheating on me.  I was too busy surfing and it was the last time I would be truly happy till  This week.   Looking back I would not have traded one of those surf sessions to allow for a different out come on things and I’m glad I catered to everyone’s needs who came out here for an adventure tour at least I was able to make someone happy during that time period.

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