Los Angeles. Tuesday. As we sped up PCH from LAX toward Malibu for a voice-over session (details to come), I noticed something crazy... There were waves everywhere. Guys were bobbing in the lineup at what seemed like every bend in the road between Santa Monica and the 'Bu.From the cliff-side house where the sound studio was, I had a perfect view of Malibu and the pier. Waves seemed to be rolling in with amazing consistency. We stayed in Santa Monica that night and over drinks I noticed big lines smashing the shore near the the boardwalk there.
Wednesday morning. Our call for the music video shoot was at 6am. This time we were in Marina Del Rey, and again, explosions of whitewater blasted above the rise of sand between the beach house where we were shooting and the Pacific. The day went really late, and as the sun set, I noticed guys catching windblown lefts off a jetty on the south side of the beach. Mist from the breakers chilled our extras during the golden hour.
The next morning I was beat. Got in a plane and flew back to Oregon. Mission accomplished. But zero waves surfed.
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