July 7, 2009 Tuesday

Bolinas	Channel
9:00 am to 10:30 am	3' to 4', occasional 5'
Mid incoming tide (minus tide at 6:30 am)	North cross breeze
High fog, overcast	Fun session

I didn’t have high expectations this morning but the Internet did report a three-foot fifteen-second south swell at 220 degrees, which comes right into Bolinas. Russ was suiting when I arrived. He was heading to the Patch to join Kathy the biology teacher and Hans who were already out there. I was thinking about the good rights I had on Monday June 29th.

An older surfer (about my age), who I had seen before here and who I knew was good, was suited up and waxing his board. He had a classic 9’ 6” longboard in perfect condition, clear-green color, doubled glassed on the rails and one macho-size curved skeg fiber-glassed into the bottom. Similar to the one I have on my 1967 10’ 6” Deese board that now decorates the front of my garage. I asked him about his board. He said it was a Dave Sweet board that Dave had made for him two years ago. I remembered the name but couldn’t place it. He claimed that Dave Sweet was the inventor of the foam board and was a big time shaper in the sixties. He also stated that he was on Dave Sweet’s surf team in 1965. I knew the guy was good, but that cemented it for me.

Later on I did look up Dave Sweet in the Encyclopedia of Surfing. There he was: owner and shaper of Dave Sweet Surfboards from 1956 until he closed his business in 1974. He was located in the Malibu area and built boards for several of the big time movie stars including Clark Gable, Cliff Robertson and Peter Lawford. From 1953 to ’56 he poured his heart, soul and all his money into perfecting polyurethane foam blanks. Sixty miles south Hobie Alter and Gordon Clark were going through a similar trial and error process, but Dave Sweet beat them to market by two years.

I walked down to the Groin wall with the camera in my hand. Three surfers were out there. The older one comfortably paddling on his knees was our Dave Sweet team member. I stood there with the camera on and focused and waited, and waited. Nothing came through. I turned the camera off and waited. Suddenly I had my doubts about going out; I do have a lot of things to do at home. After ten minutes a set came through: six four-footers that peeled off beautifully to the right. My Dave Sweet friend connected with one at the peak, cruised down a solid face, walked to the nose and hummed through a fast section. That did it; I was going to go for those good rights.

Entering the water I met Professor Steve who was just finishing his morning workout. He mentioned that he had connected on a couple of good rights. Low tide had turned at 6:30 am and the flood tide was just beginning to flow into the lagoon. I paddled across the current to the island of sand in front of the peak. The channel was fairly deep right up to the edge of the island. I walked across the coarse sand and shallow water to get out to the peak. My Dave Sweet friend asked me what took me so long. Photos and chatting with friends I replied. I mentioned that I thought a got a good shot of him (that’s him in the above photo). “Surf photos!” he exclaimed. He was impressed.

Between the long lulls a set of ground swells that stretched across the Channel would suddenly appear. The sandbar caused them to break at one consistent point and to peel down the mound of sand of the bar. I was prepared for the rights but here came a four-foot left swell. I went for it, quickly jumped up, cut left, looked down a steep wall of water, climbed high in the wave, locked my inside rail under the lip, trimmed down a fast paper-thin curl, stalled for an instant to let the wave build up again and cruised down another section. What a great ride. A few minutes later I did it again. I knew the rights were longer, but if the lefts were good why switch?

Another set came in, my Dave Sweet friend was in position for a five-footer and stroked into it as I paddled over it. I thought he would never make it. I was wrong. Looking back I saw him swing right, climb high in the wave, lean into it, crouch down and watched only his head accelerate just in front of the white water of the breaking wave, and on and on he went.

I was sitting way outside when the next set approached. Never take the first wave of a set I reminded myself. So I let the first one go by. The second wave was bigger, but I could see a bigger one behind it. I let the second wave pass. I paddled further out and a five-foot wall approached. It looked like it would close out but I decided to go for it. With two strokes I was into it. I looked down a head high line of water that was feathering at the top and it held up. I turned right, planted my rail mid-swell and gained speed. Two surfers were paddling out. One was directly in my path; I straightened out just enough to get by him. I missed his tail-block by six inches. I wanted to make this wave, but the slight turn caused me to drop to the bottom of the wave and lose momentum. I tried to cut right again to get back into the swell. The white water started peeling top to bottom and I could not get by it. I stood leaning on my inside rail trying to clear the white water. I didn’t make it. The wave collapsed, my board shot out from under me, my feet flew up and I landed tail-first into the white turbulence. It was a thrilling ride while it lasted.

For an hour and a half, I shared great waves my Dave Sweet friend and three others. We were a mellow crowd and had a great time.