Big Day at Morro Bay

I had two hours free on Sunday morning the weekend we travelled to central California for my grandmother's memorial service. I had surfed The Rock twice the last time we visited, since we were staying in nearby Los Osos. There's a surf shop called Wavelengths where gear can be rented (last time I used a 6'4" Epoxy CI Flyer, which worked well in the powerful waves). This time, though, I realized that the conditions would have to be perfect (or shall I say, easy) for me to make the commitment.

My cousin drove me down to the dirt parking lot and we scoped the surf. The monster winter swell that had been rocking California was still putting a smackdown on this part of the coast. The lineup, which had about 50 people that Sunday in November when I surfed last there (when the waves were about 5 ft.), was significantly less. There were only seven guys out. I realized that I was in no condition physically or mentally to surf this wave. It didn't look easy. My heart wasn't in it.

The previous day we had spread my grandmother's ashes at a nearby beach in the same place where we put my sister. The idea that both of my loved ones were now a part of this ocean was profound. I knew that my intense relationship with the Pacific (especially in this part of California) had a lot to do with the fact that I feel like my sister is there, symbolically, if not in actuality. But I also had a deep sense of respect for the power of the sea.

So I took these pictures, then went back home and spent time with my family. And I made a vow to come back soon.







REM - "The One I Love"