September 17, 2008 Wednesday

Montara	Old Chart House
8:45 am to 9:30 am	Consistent 4', sets 6' to overhead
Low upcoming tide	Onshore cross breeze
Overcast, cool, textured surface	Brief, thrilling session

At 7:45 am I was standing at the wall at Linda Mar in Pacifica watching the waves and waiting for my son Kevin to go surfing before work. Several surfers were at the north peak going for two to three footers. Everyone was there because the middle and south peaks were flat. The wind was from the southwest putting a small chop on the water but not impacting the shape. Great, knee-high curls, my kind of wave.

Kevin and his friend Eric showed up. “Let’s go check Montara,” Kevin greeted me. “We were there Saturday and had a great time.”

“What’s wrong with this?” I responded. “Besides the wind will be all wrong at Montara, and if Montara isn’t any good you’ll want to go to Kelly Ave in Half Moon Bay.”

“Come on, let’s check it out,” Kevin said. “We can always come back. It only takes four minutes to get there.”

“So here’s my son again pushing me into bigger waves,” I replied.

“Yes, that’s the point.” So off we went. Somehow I knew we weren’t coming back here.

We pulled up to the south end of Montara in the parking lot of the old Chart House Restaurant. The surf looked good, small with a definite left peak at the point. Montara sits at the base of Devil Slide. It’s a mile long cove of low bluffs and a wide sandy beach. At the south end the land rises into a small point with an outcrop of large rocks that extend twenty yards out into the water. A good left peak formed off the rocks and another left peak broke in front of the restaurant. A southwest wind blew onshore and put a chop on the water.

“What time do you have to take off for work?” I asked them. “9:30,” Kevin replied. It was 8:45, another short forty-five minute session with Kevin. I can handle that. “Let’s go,” I said.

From the bluff, looking down caused the waves to look smaller than they actually were. They appeared a lot bigger when laying prone looking up at them. The small waves were four feet, set waves were six feet and occasionally a huge overhead wave would come through. At Montara the water piles up onto a steep beach forming thick hard breaking waves. Paddling out, the waves reminded me of Kelly Ave in Half Moon Bay: thick waves, big drops and fast breaking walls of water. I paddled into a well-formed left wave, dropped down a steep face, turned at the bottom, pulled into a big section, hummed across it and pulled out near the shore. Good ride.

Unlike Bolinas, it was difficult to see the big swells coming. I was calmly sitting there and all the sudden a huge eight-foot wall of water appeared that was about to break on me. I scratched to get over it. The wave began to break, white water was sliding down from the top of the peak, and I attempted my half-ass longboard duck dive. I got my chest over the nose of the board, pushed it down as far as I could and plowed into the turbulence of the white water. The wave picked me up and pushed me back. The strategy of paddling out is to always keep moving forward. When hit by white water, put your hands and arms into the water to impede the wave’s momentum that is pushing you towards shore and start paddling as soon as possible. I quickly put my arms down but the push of the wave kept shoving me towards the shore. I was afraid it was going to suck me over the falls. The wave pushed me several yards backwards before it passed under me. I was now inside and another wave was approaching. Fortunately I managed to scratch over this one and there wasn’t another one.

Kevin and I were positioned at the peak when the next set came through. The first wave had a good left shape to it. We both turned to go for it. “Kevin, take it,” I shouted to him. Kevin took off late and dropped into it. While paddling over the next wave I looked back and saw Kevin’s head just in front of the breaking part of the curl. On and on he went, always just ahead of the feathering lip of the wave, right up to the shore. A great ride.

A smaller well-formed wave approached. I went for it and caught the peak. The take off was flat, I had to initially go straight to get into the wave, my momentum carried me over the edge, I dropped into a well-formed left curl, positioned myself in the middle of swell and cruised through a fast section right up to the shore break. The tide was coming up and the backwash off the steep beach was becoming more pronounced causing the waves to jump up. We had to judge the impact of the backwash when positioning for a wave. A big left wave approached and the backwash caused it to leap up. I stroked into it, dropped into a head-high wave, turned at the bottom, climbed back up to mid-swell, stepped to the middle of the board and shot through a long section. I pulled out four feet from shore. “That’s it for me,” I said. Kevin and Eric were jockeying around for one final wave. I ran across the beach to the car to retrieve my camera to get one shot of them before they got out. The above photo is Kevin on his last wave.

In forty-five minutes I caught three waves, all of them good. I had a feeling of satisfaction having handled these thick hard breaking waves. Kevin and Eric quickly changed and headed for work. The retired one here drove to Denny’s at Linda Mar and Highway 1 for breakfast and to write up this morning’s adventure. Life is tough.