Last night I posted a blog regarding a video clip of me pussing out in Dane Reynolds latest Marine Layer Down Load. This weeks Blast from the past is the actual blog from that session posted on 4/23/10.
I have in my now almost 3 decades of living in the lore of the surf experienced a wide range of waves at home and afar. It was not hence this week that I was put in front of a wave I had absolutely no vocabulary for. Mix in some serious size and power and a challenge of immense propensity arose.
For over a year now I have been enticed by the idea of a seemingly mystical and very exclusive wave located south of Santa Barbara on a highly secure naval base. My photographer Dave has a pass, veritable “Golden Ticket” so to speak, being that his father is in the service. Up until this time we had made several attempts none successful at getting this wave to work. He had long dangled the idea of a wave most consider too heavy to surf in front of me since our affiliation, I was yet to experience such although had gotten inkling of such from prior recon and a brief clip of Dane Reynolds there (although at the time had not idea it was the same spot). Most I have talked to about said spot claim it as one of the best waves in California.
On Monday (4-12) there was forecasted south activity to move in towards the end of the week, banking on this we had made plans to make another attempt at the base. Conditions looked best for Thursday (4-15) and the stage was set, whether for a tragedy or a comedy still unknown. Given the distance south from Santa Barbara we struck out early just before the sunrise and headed on the fifty mile trek south. There is nothing worse then waking up at 4:30.
The way down felt like it took an eternity although less then an hour. Both of us were rather apprehensive on what we were to discover. We joked the entire way about getting skunked yet again, the base being the biggest lie in southern California, of Dane and his filmer being there and challenging us to a duel, anything to calm our nerves. I brought two boards, my standard 5’10 J7 and this Simon Andersan 5’11 round tail I have been carting around since the fall of 08’, still a trusty soldier despite its age and being broken through the nose by a careless airline baggage handler. The great boards of man are always seemingly ruined by the hands of the airlines, I believe almost every traveling surfer can attest to that little adage.
We get on the base undisputed by the guard and cruise up to the parking lot. Already there are more cars there then we had ever seen, a very good sign. Stepping out of the car the booming of breaking waves became prevalent and spray could be seen just making it above the sea wall (it stands a good 12 feet or so above sea level). Dave got over the top of the wall first and let out a yelp with a huge grim across his face. I climb up and all I could see was perfectly oil glass overhead bowls throwing out as wide as one can imagine with four guys on it and a crowd of body boarders charging some disgusting triple up practically breaking on the sea wall to the south.
Then a set came and it was solid eight to ten feet, sucking up to solid double overhead, I have not seen that much spit from a tube since my time at Pipe. Needless to say I was back at the car, into my wetsuit and out in the lineup before you could drop a hat. As I climbed down the seawall to beach level Dane’s videographer was on the beach tucked into the rocks. I was about to paddle out to the middle peak to get my bearings but he cat called me to paddle to the main peak with Dane.
I jumped in and though it was between sets just ducking under the little one’s I could tell that this break had some serious force to it. I get out there and I was completely dumfounded. There were waves coming in from every direction, south, north, west, parallel to the beach. On top of that there was side wash, back wash and contradicting currents between both the inside and the outside. Basically there was a ton of mother fucking water moving around.
Dane was going ballistic doing no paddle take offs into deep below sea level pits finishing off with an array of eight-foot airs. As for me I found myself absolutely at a loss on what to do with this crazy left bowl/wedge thing that was on set sucking up to solid double overhead. Basically I kooked it shoulder hopping most, bailing through the back on sections I was not confident about and I even pulled back on three waves, one of which was one of the best waves of the session and in front of everyone in the lineup. Now immortalized thanks to Dane and the internet.
After that one Dane paddled up to me and told me to get my shit together and everyone else just had the dirtiest stink eye for me. What can I say the place was gnarly and I had no idea how to surf it, not to mention where the waves were breaking was no more then knee deep. I was tested and was beaten failing miserably. Since that day I vowed to learn that wave and master it so that next time its on I can surf it to my full potential. I still am far from mastering it feeling like a kook the most recent time I was there.
Funny thing is I went back there Saturday (4-17) and it was smaller around chest to head with the occasional bigger set and it still kicked my ass, although I did feel as though I was beginning to understand it more. I guess it is finally time for a new surfing challenge to be brought about in my life. Usually summer here is all about the grovel but I guess this year its going to be about the charge. We only surfed and filmed there maybe a dozen times at best this summer and never saw it as good as this day was.
One of the bigger ones I caught that day.
Surfing Ruined My Life 