Surf Report – March 10, 2008

Surf Report, March 10, 2008

This was actually not a stellar day for surf – but it was a day worth celebrating nonetheless. Monday, March 10, 2008 marked the first day I had time to surf after work this year. Due to Daylight Savings Time on the 9th, I now have the opportunity for post-work paddling.

The surf looked sloppy from the cliff. From the cliff, the waves looked knee-to-waist high with only the large rocks for scale (no people out to gauge true height). A storm was coming ashore, and the offshore breezes were helping, but the majority of the swell was leftovers from the previous swell combined with the local SW wind chop from the approaching system. The combination was creating peaks at several places along this beach, and some were held up by the offshores to make what looked like fun little steep sections. The tide wasn’t quite low enough for that other spot, so this was best choice.

Actually, it was also the best choice because no one else was out when I looked. It looked small and disorganized – so people would probably drive to low-tide spot (which did not have a low enough tide) and surf where they already saw people in the water.

For all the time effort surfers make trying to escape the crowds – many of them appear to be lonely and need to surf where others are already out in the water.

Suits me fine – I wanted to avoid surfing around people today because I haven’t been in the water in 3 months. I wanted to flail and break the rust off in peace.

The 9-to-5-er has kept me from surfing for most of the winter. By mid-November, there is not enough light to surf before or after work – leaving only the weekends. All it takes is one good illness, some unwanted overtime, a weekend attending a conference – and three weeks go by without surfing. This is bad news in the winter. The surf doesn’t mess around here in the winter. The coastline is exposed.

After three weeks of no surf, I feel less confident paddling out into bigger swells. Every weekend without surfing and my swimming gets slower and slower; the chaos in the water becomes more difficult for my brain to comprehend (and feel comfortable in).

The average weekend of surf here in December and January is big.

New Year’s Day was a rare beautiful sunny calm day. It was too calm, the ocean was flat. No surf.

So three months go by and no surf.

I start unloading my gear and another truck pulls up. A college-age guy gets out and walks down the trail to look at the surf over the cliff. When he comes back and sees me putting on my wetsuit, he asks “Did you check the other spot?”

“No, I figured it’s so small here that if I didn’t like the looks of the other spot, I wouldn’t come back here – I would probably go home.”

It works – he gets in his truck and leaves. No one wants to appear so uncool as to want to ride marginal waves.

Or maybe it’s a risk/reward thing. The reward of marginal waves is not worth the risk of possibly sharing the water with a Great White? (even then, it’s a miniscule chance – there’s only been 10 attacks over the last 20 years in Humboldt County).

I however, could use the water time. I’ve surfed many waves this size and smaller during endless summer days in southern California. Most of the summer days I spent in Maryland, the surf was smaller than this. If the waves were this big the day I surfed just north of Milwaukee, the other surfers would have defecated adobe (this was 8-10 second windswell – the Great Lakes can produce a maximum of a 5-second period).

Swimming laps in a pool can help the overall fitness level – but I seem to lose my “burst” when I spend significant time out of the surf.

The “burst” is that short sprint of a paddle when trying to catch the wave. You have to match the wave’s speed before the board will start planing over the water instead of only displacing through it.

My “burst” is more of a slow leaking. The waves here break very quickly on a shallow sandbar. The first several waves go right underneath me without me reaching planing speed. As I cheat in closer to the break, I get caught by a wave when I can’t catch it fast enough and receive a sinus flush for my allergies.

That wakes me up (the water temp at the nearby pier was 49 degrees). I then manage to get a few waves. The guy from the truck paddles out down the beach from me (nice to see someone else appreciate elbow room).

Ninety minutes well-spent. A little less rust.