One Wave Day

Saturday was bigger than the bouys were reading, and gnarlier than the 4-star rating given by Magic Seaweed's forecast site. It looked pretty unsurfable at first, but we went for it anyway, paddling out on the north side of Shorties. Amazingly, there were some workable lefts firing through, if you could find the shifty peak.

Smithy found it first and ripped a long head-high grinder. I think he caught a couple more too, the lucky sod. After being manhandled by a few head-plus closeouts (where I'd have to belly back to the rip just to get outside again), I finally grabbed a big left. Popped up and my feet were too close together, but the drop was so hairy that I couldn't adjust. I just hung on for dear life, the instability of my stance freezing me. I flew down the line, eyeballs bulging, legs shaking, trying to find my way back up the face. Warp speed achieved, I assessed my situation: I was heading directly into a closing righthand section. Exit plan? Couldn't make it over the back, so I had to do my patented swan dive into the trough.

After a few gymnastic twirls under the whitewater, I emerged, my left leg still being yanked by the elastic leash. I made it. Paddled back to the rip and back out to the lineup, only to be caught inside by one of the biggest monsters I've ever experienced.

The photo above is from after we got out. I'd consider it mid-sized in comparison to the sneaker sets.

Toll: Two surfboards dinged (neither of which were mine). One glove nearly ripped off my hand during a duckdive. One giant dungeness crab wandering shellshocked in the foam (which I caught and released).

Of Montreal - I Was Never Young