Bertha Fades Away...

Up at dawn again. The buoys are four feet at eleven seconds, so I know there is still surf. Man, am I sore. I feel rather uninspired this morning, so saturated with it all the last couple days. And, I know it has dropped, one can't expect waves like yesterday to last long on the Atlantic side. I do not want to ride anything smaller than what we had yesterday! The Firewire likes big open faces, and I know it can't possibly be today. A check of the pier proves this. It is smaller, weaker, and there are only about five guys in the water. I call Karen and Bruce, and we decide to wait for the tide to drop so the waves might break better. I go over to their house again, hang out, and we load up the bikes. We ride out to the pier, and see some little peelers. It's not gone yet, but it looks nothing like yesterday. We paddle out on the south side, and it takes much effort to get excited - because it will be more work for less action! It is already getting crowded, and I notice how many more girls are surfing these days. It seems that one third of the people in the water today are females. Yesterday, I only saw a few, but today, a lot paddled out. It used to be that I was the odd one in a sea of guys, and Karen says the same. I remember when I first started surfing in 1969, and couldn't get any of my friends interested. It has finally changed. I never thought it would take as long as it did. Karen and I catch a lot of fun ones, despite the smaller size, and I feel loose and catch some good lefts. But after three hours, I suddenly hit a wall. I just feel dead, like I can't even catch a wave in. I think maybe a fin has fallen off my board, it is that bad. Finally, Karen gets her last one and I trail after her. It was fun. Thank you Bertha. That was probably one of the best hurricane swells that I can remember...

I Love Bertha ... Best waves since Nicaragua!

As I made my way to the end of the walkover at Vilano this morning, I had a flashback to when I had just started surfing, when everything was new. A guy was running on the path, his surfboard tucked under his arm, and as he came into full view of the ocean he let out a hoot of appreciation for the waves he saw. It didn't matter to him that the tide was too high, or that clouds blanketed the sky. I on the other hand, was rather grumpy, seeing only that there were already eleven guys out in the lineup, and that no one was catching anything. I had to remember that this is summer, there are waves, and I don't have to be in to work until 3pm. I decided to check the pier. Uh-oh. As I pulled into the parking lot, I could see six guys standing on the wall looking at it, and there were cars with boards and surfers everywhere, before the sun was even up. Ugh. What to do? I walked to the top of the berm and called Karen. She was up for whatever I decided. I don't want to surf in this crowd, I said. Just then, I noticed all six of those guys had moved over beside me, and were looking where I was looking, at the south side of the pier. I turned to walk back to my car, and noticed a little silver sports car slowing next to me. It was Chuck, asking how my trip to Nicaragua had been. We chatted, and then T.J. came walking up, as frustrated as I was. He couldn't figure out where to go, to escape the weekend crowds, either. Maybe Blowhole, we thought at the same time. That would take a lot of hiking and effort, we knew. I called Karen back to tell her I was going to check 8th street, and Bruce answered. She's on her way to the pier with the dog, he said. She pulled in just then, and we checked it. Her eyes were full of delight. "It's so glassy!" she said, smiling. But, look at the crowd, I said, moaning. Jake had been barking at a guy under a tent with all manner of what looked like trash surrounding him. The guy approached us, seemed friendly enough, but then started quoting scriptures. Ugh. Karen was the nicer one, listening politely while I looked at the ground, impatient. I told her I was going to 8th, and she said she was right behind me. Once there, I could see there were quite a few guys on it, but not too bad. I paddled out and saw it was better than I had thought. Walls were peeling off, and they had steep faces, unlike what the Overlook had shown earlier. Sam was suddenly there, saying hi! We talked inbetween waves. It was fun! I caught a great left that walled up way inside, and when I paddled back out he was smiling, "How was that one?" I saw him get a lot of waves by hanging on the inside. I wanted to wait for the bigger outside sets with the longboarders. Karen paddled out, and I saw her take off on some big ones. She was happy, although worried about starting her new job today at Sherry's. She isn't used to having a time restraint, and kept asking what time it was. There were so many good waves today! One left just held up and I hit it backside over and over, as high as I could, and one right closed out hard, but I hit it right before it did and landed, surprising even me. But, the one left that made my day was the big one that walled up way outside, that I scratched to the horizon to catch. I could hear someone hooting as I got launched out, and as I dropped in, I knew this was the one. I did a bottom turn and eyed the lip and just tried to go as high as I could into the steepest part, and it just let me, again and again. There was not a drop of water out of place, that wall was just perfect. When I paddled back out four guys commented on it as I made my way back to the outside. One said, smiling, "Wow, that looked like a good one! I saw you come up really high a bunch of times!" I needed to hear that, as surfing tends to deceive you sometimes. Video footage is usually disappointing when you see what you thought was some radical manuver revealed in real life as quite unremarkable. So that this guy was impressed really made it feel that much better, the ham that I am. The vibe in the water was so much fun today. Except when everyone started moving over to where I had been then, trying to get a left of their own! So, I moved over to the right and watched Karen drop in on a bigger set wave. STOKED! It was chilly in the water, I had my longsleeve lycra and neoprene 1mm jacket on, and I was still shivering. Starving after the constant surfing, and suddenly feeling a leg cramp, I began thinking I should go in. One more great right, and food became too much of a motivator. I rode it into shore and, satsified, looked back at the lineup. What a day. Thanks, Bertha!

Hurricane Bertha ... the first pulses arrive!

We were like kids on Christmas Eve last night. We can't sleep because we imagine how it will be in the morning. Bob and I were at Crossovers before the sun had even made its way up over the horizon. We compared notes as we sat in the water. I had said, "What the ...?" with the first glimpse of the ocean. I mean, it seemed like it should have looked bigger. Four foot bouys at fourteen seconds should equate to more than what I was looking at. Bob had said the same thing, as he walked onto the beach. But, every 20 minutes or so, this determined, slightly overhead set would march through to remind us that a Hurricane was spinning due east of us. It felt good to be back in something a little more challenging. It was like I was back at Santanas again, on a small day, only the water was 70 degrees (shiver) and an unappetizing shade of olive drab. Oh, well, it's waves! We surfed awhile, then decided the crowd was increasing and the sets of earlier were not happening, and we both paddled in to find another spot. Bob went to Matanzas, while I checked every spot inbetween. The pier looked smaller. Tenth street smaller still. Summerhaven was weak, and smaller, with longboarders feasting on it. Bob's car was in the lot at Matanzas, but as I looked over the ocean and considered the outgoing tide which equated to mucho paddling for just a few waves, I headed back north. A call to Karen changed everything. Come over for breakfast, she said, and then we'll let the tide come in and hit it in the park! And, that is what we did. We had so much fun, riding the bikes out to the beach and checking it, climbing over the broken walkover. I stepped on a rusty nail and it went right through my sandal and I thought I was doomed. I felt it go through to my foot, but when I looked, there was no blood. There was a perfect see through hole in my shoe, but no mark on me. What luck! So, we paddled out, and had a really fun session. This picture was of a smaller wave Bruce shot that I caught at the pier. Thanks, Bruce! Sorry my spray wasn't bigger. A couple hours later, the onshores arrived at 11:15am, and we paddled in. But, it was okay. I was shivering by then, and starving. What fun we had, pumping each other up about the waves we saw each other get. I am so lucky my best friend surfs!