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.
Surfing Ruined My Life 