November 10, 2010 Wednesday

Bolinas	Groin
10:00 am to 11:30 am	3' to 5', sets overhead
Low upcoming tide	Gusty offshore winds to no wind to offshore breeze
Sunny, windy and clear	Good session

I didn’t have big expectations for waves this morning. Last night it rained and the wind was howling in Mill Valley when I woke up. I thought the ocean would need a day to settle down before the waves got good again. The Internet data was ok, not spectacular: 7 ft NW swell at 11 seconds, light north winds, sunshine and an upcoming tide. I had to go because I had to gather water samples for Surfrider’s water testing program. Six surfers were at the Groin when I arrived, including: Marty and David who rides the Becker board. Hans, Jaime and one other were at the Patch. The waves at the Groin were beautiful, smooth surface, glassy peaks, and a strong offshore breeze that sent arches of spray off of the tops, but they were infrequent. With camera in hand I waited and waited for someone to catch a wave. However, it was such a beautiful day I had to go out.

“Hey Loren, did you bring your wetsuit today?” Russ shouted at me back at the cars.

“Yes I did.”

Last Monday (November 8th) Russ witnessed my frustration when I started to suit up and discovered that I had left my wetsuit hanging on its hook in the garage at home.

“Loren, this morning I started up the car, began to back out, then turned off the engine, got out and went around to the back to make sure I had my wetsuit. I was thinking about you.” Russ and I are about the same age, that age where you have to make lists to insure you won’t forget something important.

Dexter walked by heading for the ramp. He was dripping wet and was carrying a shortboard.

“Dexter, you’re wet. Were you out there already? How was it?”

“I’m changing boards. I’m switching from my 9’ 8” to my 6’ 3” brand new John Moore Mystic shortboard.”

“So Dexter, where were you during the big swell last week? I didn’t see you here.”

“Scorpion Bay,” he said grinning from ear to ear.

“Mexico?”

“Yes, It was so nice. Hot, sunny weather, great waves, warm water, no crowds and no wetsuits.” Scorpion Bay is on the Baja Peninsula, 600 miles south of San Diego. Dexter drove there by himself, a two and a half day journey. He slept on the beach and scored some classic surf.

“I howled when I got back and struck my toe in the water here!”

Walking down the beach to the Groin, a set of perfect waves came through. They looked bigger than before and better formed. With the upcoming tide the waves had improved. I paddled out to join Marty and Dexter, David had moved to the Seadrift side to try the rights. I couldn’t believe the quality of the waves. The offshore wind caused them to stand straight up and then pitch over into nice little tubes, and the bottom forced all the waves to peel to the left. On my first wave I took off late as the lip was pitching over. I dropped down a steep head-high face that curled and broke in front of me. The wave had power; I leaned into the white water, struggled to keep my balance and pushed back into the swell. The wave stood up again and I shot through a steep fast inside curl. I continued on until it closed out near the Groin pole. What a great start to a session.

Both Dexter and I paddled for a big set wave. I missed it but Dexter caught it. From the back I watch him disappear. The face was over his head. Way on the inside he popped out, cut back, turned back into the curl and continued on. What a great ride.

Chuck the Bolinas local who rides a kneeboard paddled out to the outside peak. Chuck is an excellent surfer, and he doesn’t bother coming out unless the waves are good. I used him as my indicator. He knows the break, thus if he paddled out, I paddled out. If he paddled laterally, I paddled laterally. When the sets came, Chuck would take the first wave and I would quickly paddle over to his take off point and catch the second wave of the set. This strategy worked for at least five good rides. One time I was deeper in the peak than Chuck. I took off and the wave quickly broke in front of me. Chuck had taken off on the shoulder and cleanly made the initial drop. I continued along in the white water hoping to push back into the swell. I got a perfect view of Chuck’s ride. There he was locked in the inverted “L”, that point where the lip and the white water intersect, on his knees at the top of the wave, spray coming off the top, white water pounding behind him and the curl feathering ten feet in front of him. He skillfully shot down the curl, cut back, turned sharply left and shot through another fast section.

Yaschik, another excellent surfer, was out at the far peak. Yaschik is in his mid-thirties (my estimate), has tattoos up and down both arms, is from Poland and has lived several years in San Diego, where he learned to surf. He is a regular at the Patch, on a longboard with no leash and usually goes way outside and north of the rest of us and sits on his board cross-legged while waiting for the sets. This morning he was on a shortboard, again way outside, sitting cross-legged. I had just completed another good ride, turned around to paddle back out and saw Yaschik coming down a perfect wave. It was a foot over his head, an emerald green swell with sunlight pouring through the back with Yaschik silhouetted against the wall of water locked mid-swell in the curl screaming down the line with the roar of the pounding wave in my ear. He crouched down with his back to the wave, put his hand on the outside rail, hung on as the lip slapped him on his shoulder, he cruised out into the swell again, stood erect and sailed down the beach. It was a picture worthy of all the surf magazines.

At eleven David paddled back from the Seadrift side to join us. “When did you come out?”

“I entered the water with Marty at a quarter to eight.” At eleven thirty I went in and David was still out there. I changed, went into town for coffee and when I returned here came David.

“Time check. It’s 11:47 am. That’s four hours in the water.” He admitted that he finally came in because he was tired and hungry and that it was lunchtime. Now that’s the surf passion.