Glassy at the Secret Spot

What do you know, we found a new secret spot. It’s not really secret, it’s just that it’s not widely considered a good surf spot, but it really is. I am not going to tell you where it is, and I am not going to post any pictures, but believe me, it’s sweet.

It was Saturday morning, a week ago. The remainder of the hurricane swell was still grazing our coast, and my buddies and I decided to go to the secret spot. As we walked down to the beach, we could see the gentle waves rolling in at an angle, creating long lefts that looked simply too much fun to let go.

Paddling in was amazing. The water is still so warm, you almost feel like in Hawai`i. I somewhere heard that it’s about 7 degrees warmer than normal for this time of the year. You won’t hear any complaints from surfers, especially because it is seemingly too hot for stingrays (haven’t seen one in months).

The lineup was unusually crowded. Not as crowded as at the more famous spots nearby, but still too crowded for us. After all, we were used to sitting in the water by ourselves, only occasionally joined by a dolphin or a wayward human wader.

I have dramatically improved when it comes to surfing. The combination of time spent in the water and the particular board (Baked Potato) has made me more confident – I think the surf videos I posted on YouTube show that. I am starting to push for manoeuvres on the wave, moves that indicate I master the basics. I even went as far as saying that I consider myself Intermediate now. A huge step for me.

The waves of the day were just the kind of waves that my board and I like. We could squeeze a fancy ride out of something nobody else would catch; but the two of us also pushed interlopers to the side that were trying to snake. There is just nothing like the confidence of a pop onto the board and a quick whistle to make people jump out of your way.

There were so many waves, there was enough for everybody. Two kids nearby kept swapping a WaveStorm and an SUP between them, laughing hysterically when they’d faceplant. Older guys were mostly sitting idle, looking at other people catching waves while they cheered on and chatted about the world at large. Missing were all the douches and kooks that infest places like Scripps and Tourmaline. It was a bunch of regulars (plus your truly) having a fun time.

The best thing about the day was probably the water. It wasn’t just warm and inviting: there was an unusual quality about it, too. It was perfectly glassy, for one, and you could easily see all the way to the bottom even farther out. It was so clear, in fact, that you could distinguish single grains of sand, and notice the pebbles on the ocean floor.

Also, the water was unusually green. A yellowish algae green where it is usually a menacing greyish blue. It felt like lake water, not an ocean – except to the taste buds, that were quickly turned off by the unusual salinity.

Strangely for the swell combination, these waves didn’t close out. They were narrow in focus, maybe because there was an admix from the North-West, and maybe because a major landmark was cutting off some of the energy. In any case, you’d see a wave come your way, you’d have to decide to go for the left or the right, and you could count on an 80% conversion rate.

We stayed for two and a half hours. The only problem I had was that by the second half of the session, I was so tired of paddling back, my shoulders started hurting. Too many waves had carried me too far!

Now, if there is a problem I always like to have, that’s the one. Too many waves carrying me too far!