July 23, 2008 Wednesday

Bolinas	Seadrift side of the Channel
9:00 am to 10:30 am	1’ to 2’, sets to 3’
Low tide	Onshore breeze
Hazy sunshine	Terrible waves

“Hans, I hear you are associated with the Corinthian Yacht Club,” I commented to him during one of those frequent lows out at the Groin that morning. Hans, who is about my age, is one of the regulars at Bolinas, rides a blue longboard and prefers the long gentle waves of the Patch, which were not breaking this morning. 

“Yes, that’s right. I worked there for eighteen years. I was the General Manager,” he responded. 

“Then you must know Bill, my father-in-law. He was the Port Capital there for several years,” I continued. 

“Yes I know him very well. Bill was one of the good guys there,” Hans answered. Here was something we both had in common and it just opened the door of conversation of fond memories of the place and good stories of the people. Situated at the end of Tiburon’s waterfront, the Corinthian Yacht Club is a beautiful place. Its classic colonial clubhouse, built in 1911, sits on pilings on the water and has incredible panoramic view of Angel Island, Alcatraz and the City and its harbor houses some two hundred yachts. I crewed on many Friday night races with Bill, my son worked there as a deck hand during his high school years, and my sister and brother in-law were married there. Hans spoke fondly of the older members, like Bill, who had lived through the Depression and World War II. They were decent, humble and the better sailors. The new younger members tend to be more materialistic, arrogant and demanding. 

What an ideal job I thought. Outside all day, surrounded by the beauty of the Bay and the boats, sailing when the opportunity presented itself and running the numerous sailing races. “Say hello to Bill for me the next time you see him,” Hans requested. 

“Will do.” 

We had plenty of time to chat because the surf was terrible. When I arrived there were no cars parked along Brighton Ave. That was not a good sign. With camera in hand I walked up to the overlook. Nobody was out. The nice lines we had Monday had disappeared, the Groin was barely breaking and the Patch was flat. Remembering the good rides Kathy and Clark got Monday at the Seadrift side of the Channel I watch that side for several minutes. A few right peeling waves came through. The above photo is one of them. 

Walking back to my car, Professor Steve pulled up in his ancient Volvo. “I’ll go out if you go out,” I greeted him. 

“There’s nothing out there. I’m going for exercise,” he answered, reaching out the window to open the car door from the outside. He had arrived with his wetsuit on. 

“By the time I get dressed you will be done,” I stated. 

“That’s right. I don’t have much time. I’m taking my son to the mountains this afternoon,” he responded. With that he grabbed his board and took off. 

Doug arrived. I explained the conditions to him and stated that the rights at Seadrift were our best chance for waves. Since it was a warm day we decide to go. By the time Doug and I reached the beach with our boards, Professor Steve was gone. We entered the water at the Groin and paddled over to the Seadrift side. The waves were one to two feet with an occasional three-foot wave. They broke to the right but they were un-makeable. The waves would peak in mid-channel, start to break then would jump up and crash as solid walls in one to two feet of water. Doug and I tried and tried but we could not get any decent rides. By the time I stood up the waves would be collapsing ten to fifteen feet in front of me. 

After a half an hour, Hans paddled out to join us. He too experienced the same frustration. Hans finally stated that the lefts at the Groin looked better and he paddled off to try his luck over there. Doug and I followed him. In the brief time we were out there the tide had filled in, the wind had died down, the surface had glassed off and some nice left curls were peeling off. Within twenty minutes I managed to connect on three fast, paper-thin left curls. This made my morning. With that I went in. 

Never admitting that we wasted our time, all three of us had the usual surfer banter after a lousy session: “beats working”, “good exercise”, “feels good to be in the water”, etc. My main accomplishment of the morning was discovering Hans and I had something in common, and because of our Corinthian Yacht Club connection I’m confident that we will be buddies for years to come.