March 9, 2009 Monday

Bolinas	Straight out from the ramp
8:30 am to 9:45 am	2' to 3', sets head high
High incoming tide	Stiff offshore wind
Sunny and cold	Good session

“Loren, it’s windy,” said Kate at 5:45 am. It was still dark outside; sunrise wasn’t until 7:30 am, as I stood in my bedroom listening to the rustle of the trees. I had high hopes on connecting with some waves this morning. I quickly jumped onto the Internet to look at the latest buoy readings, 30 knots north wind. That’s a lot, but north is offshore at Bolinas.

I was right, a stiff wind was blowing straight offshore at the base of the ramp. A perfect peak had waves peeling in both directions; the wind was holding up the two to three foot curls. I watched Professor Steve (pictured above) dropping into some nice long rides. I had to go.

“Wow, the wind is cold,” I said to myself as I was suiting up. Let me repeat, it was cold. While slipping into my wetsuit and booties, my fingers went numb. I lost feeling in my fingertips of both hands. When the feeling leaves so does dexterity. I couldn’t zip up my wetsuit. The zipper is in the front of the suit across the chest. I couldn’t thread the end of the zipper. I slipped the pieces together and pulled, it wouldn’t budge. I retried ten times without success. My fingers were getting worst. I got back into in the front seat of my car, held my hands under my armpits to warm them up and finally succeeded in zipping up my suit.

The sun was out and the water was not that cold, the dread of freezing water and the numbness in my hands left me once I started paddling out. The waves were perfect and I had them all to myself, one peak straight out from the ramp that peeled in both directions. I started with the lefts and connected with several small fast rides that ended near the rocks on the north side of the seawall. I noticed that the rights looked good and that I should give them a try. Actually, the rights were better, longer and faster than the lefts and I connected with several of them. A good set approached and I was in position. I stroked into a sizeable wave, swung right, locked the board mid swell, shifted my weight to the middle of the board, gained speed and for a brief instance I fixed on the image of the perfect wave, a picture that was burned into my memory: a perfect blue-green curve of swell lining up in front of me, with bright sunlight glowing through the curl, specks of white light reflecting across the top, spray arching back as I felt the lip of the wave over my right shoulder. I shot down this section a long ways until it collapsed into a wall of water a few feet from shore. That ride was special. After an hour the cold began to set in and I had exhausted myself, time to call it quits.

The bluff had protected the waves from the wind. When I reached the top of the ramp the cold wind hit my board and spun me around. It had picked up and it was cold. What am I going to do? There was nothing I could do but to change as fast I could. As soon as I took my booties off, the wind blew across my wet toes, evaporating the water and turned them numb. I changed, put on my thick sweatshirt and jumped into the car to avoid the wind. A few minutes later I walked into town for a coffee. I figured movement and circulation would be good for my frozen feet. By the time I got back, my toes were still stiff.

As I drove off with the heater on full blast, I thought, “What’s a little cold and discomfort when compared to some perfect waves?”