September 26, 2008 Friday

Ventura	Surfers Point
7:55 am to 9:30 am	3' to 4', sets to 6'
High upcoming tide	Slight offshore breeze
Bright sunny morning	Fun session

Classic longboard peaks greeted me when I pulled into the parking lot at Surfers Point. Beautiful waves, bright sun, glassy smooth, graceful long slides down delightful swells. This was the fifth and last day of my surf safari south. Yesterday I had planned to surf here in the late afternoon with my niece Heather, but the wind was howling, white caps everywhere and non-existent surf. This morning conditions were ideal. “How was it?” I asked an older surfer as he exited the water. “Great, but the tide is coming up now,” he replied. All the locals know what this means. The high tide pushes the water up the steep berm of rocks and causes the waves to die.

I had visions of myself cruising down these graceful peaks, but it didn’t happen. After a frustrating hour I finally figured this place out. At first I went straight out from my parked car, carefully stepped over the big rocks, stroked out between two peaks during a lull without getting my hair wet. I went over to the south peak where there were less people. The waves were thick and difficult to catch. I had to wait until the waves were breaking, paddle like mad and push myself into them. I caught four waves within a short period. First one was head-high and broke in front of me. I tried to go under the white water but didn’t make it; the rocks approached and I dove off. The second wave was similar but this time I made it under the white water, climbed back into the swell and rode it a long ways. Now I was in front of the outcropping of the rocks of the small point where I lined up last Tuesday. The peak here was empty. Good maybe I can connect with some waves here. Next two waves, like last Tuesday, were big drops into flat water.

I paddled north where two other surfers were and waited. The waves died. The incoming tide had caused the waves to all but disappear. I waited, others waited; I paddled further north and waited. Surfers who were sitting outside drifted in and everyone waited.

I thought about following my surf rules. Rule 1: study the white water. There was no white water. Due to the long lull all the foam had dissipated. Rule 2: watch what the locals do. This one worked. Sitting north and way, way inside was a local surfer that I saw earlier in the parking lot smoking a cigarette and joking with the other regulars. I remembered seeing this guy last February when I was here. He was one of the C Street Crew who hang out at the beach everyday. He was an older guy, late fifties, leathery brown tan and the hard facial lines of a heavy drinker. I watched him; he got rides. He took off on waves that broke way inside close to the rocks, but he made the waves, got good rides and pulled out before slamming into the rocks.

“I can do that,” I said to myself. I paddled over near him and waited. In came a set of waves, first one was a big wall of water that looked like it was going to break way out there. It didn’t. It just kept coming; I turned and stroked into a big fast inside curl that held up. I cut back and turned into steep inside section and rode it until I saw the water boiling around the rocks. What a great ride. This was the trick, connect with inside waves right at the point where they first break, scream along the inside bowl and pull over the top before hitting the rocks. I caught three good ones back to back. Then I caught three more over the next fifteen minutes. Six great waves in my last thirty minutes, what a good session.

I paddled over to this local and commented that he had the technique. He warned me about the rocks and related a personal horror story of being sliced by a razor sharp piece of rebar sticking out of one of the concrete boulders. Years ago to suppress erosion, the city of Ventura lined the coastline with tons of boulders. Many of them are concrete blocks from old freeway overpasses and are filled with steel rebar. Fortunately I avoided the rocks.

It was a beautiful morning. Surfers Point faces south, surfers are facing north when they catch the waves, then when they swing right (all the waves break to the right), they turn east and look directly into the morning sun. It’s an incredible slight. The sunlight shines through the swells turning them emerald green and dances and sparkles on the sway coming off the tops of the curls.

After changing and warming up in the sun, I headed into town for a breakfast burrito of chorizo and egg at Corrales, the inexpensive and excellent Mexican hole in the wall restaurant. At 11:00 am I hit the road for the trip home.