The Surf is Not Up

Around 400 surfers crowded the break last night, converging on the occasional swell like it was the last beer at the party. Old guys, young guys, girls with powerful haunches, and me. I paddled the “Becker Board”, large enough for a family of Polynesian immigrants to comfortably commute the Pacific Ocean.

A tiny crest appears on the horizon and the water begins to churn with confident triceps and shoulders all chugging towards the same imaginary fixed position. There is not eye contact, no verbal communication, only getting there first or getting the fuck out of the way.

“Excuse me miss, were you planning to ride this wave to the shore this afternoon? If not, would you mind terribly if I attempt to do so?”

This approach got me nowhere.

I eventually settled on a strategy of picking up scraps, which is the strategy which has served weaker dogs well for thousands of years. A big wave would carry the talented twenty or thirty away, snapping and snarling at each other- then I would gleefully paddle for the next wave, or the one after that.

Snickering beta dogs have their fun too!


7 Responses to The Surf is Not Up

  1. That’s hilarious. I didn’t even know you surfed. And your characterization of a crowded surf spot is right on. Fights were not uncommon at my local break growing up. Also, local’s only and the townie rolling in just for the weekend quickly found another spot.

    Thanks for refreshing my memory.

    Dr. D

  2. Hello,
    I am trying to find Todd Simmler. His bike has been found & is in a police station in Wipper (sp) Oregon.
    I am the frame builder who made it some years ago.
    I can be reached
    Thnaks for your help

  3. Todd S. is not surfing in San Diego. I’m pretending he’s not really on a milk carton yet or the mother in me will panic so let me know.

    Juancho, there’s always the skim board, you know. You could probably pick up 14 yr. olds with one. If I remember, you were a darn good skim boarder at 14. 😉