I’m losing my marbles. The wind has been excellent for the last week, and the surf sucks, but I’m doggedly trying to Paddlesurf. Why I don’t just go windsurf is beyond me, normally I’d be happy as a clam about these conditions. I guess I’m an addict. Yesterday I took my addiction to new lows and went paddling on the south side while it was blowing like stink at Kanaha. Put in at Launiopoko (the translation of this westside beach park is “no waves, knucklehead–go windsurfing”), caught a few ankleslappers, and then paddled west. I stopped at every break along the way–like Puamana (translation: “no waves here either”) and wound up at the Pacific O grill for lunch.
I had sixteen soggy bucks in my boardshorts, which is chump change for a fancy beachside cafe, so I told the bartender how much I had, asked the price of a beer (five bucks–FIVE BUCKS!!), did some fast menu math and decided I could also have some Gyoza but would have to leave a crappy tip. After a brief consultation with the bartender (Melissa from Atlanta–nice kid) we decided it was better that I eat something than suitably reward her. Took forever for my Gyoza to arrive, so I relaxed and chatted with Melissa, and watched about a million people take surfing lessons at Lahina Breakwall. Every time Melissa made a blended drink she’d put the leftover foo-foo drink in a glass and give it to me. Nice of her, but after one very tasty IPA and the third pineapple-banana-mango tropical sunburst I decided I’d better get back in the water while I could still feel my legs.
I decided to paddle out of the lagoon at the breakwall instead of threading the needle at the secret channel. So I worked my way past the throngs of flailing surf students and found some remarkable surf on the outside edge. The breakwall seems to manufacture it’s own waves. How it makes head high waves out of kneeslapper swells is a mystery, but it’s likely a refraction thing. These were chest to head high and very fast. I paddled out to the lineup, stepped back on my board to turn it, slipped on the wet deck and fell unceremoniously next to a very competent-looking local surfer girl. As I hauled myself back to my feet she said “the waves are pretty rough here–you might want to go over there”, pointing to the throngs of beginners. I smiled and said I’d give it a try here first, caught a really nice head high wave and got a great ride out of it. I even popped out the back with a really clean backside turn that felt just right.
I paddled back out and the surfer girl smiled and said, “I’m embarrassed, you’re a better surfer than me” which wasn’t true, but was nice to hear. Of course the next wave I caught closed out on the nose of my board as I attempted a duplicate backside exit, and shoved me into the rock garden near the breakwall. I lost my treasured hat, so i had to wander around a bit to find it, and cut my feet to shreds on the razor sharp rocks. Surf booties are a must at the breakwall.
On the paddle back to Launipoko (about three miles) I noticed little trails of blood washing off the back of my board. Chumming for sharks. Surfed at all the breaks and at Launipoko, then caught a wave to the beach and headed home.
Nice day in all, but last night my shoulders were killing me, and my feet are covered with band-aids. It’s eight o’clock and there are already whitecaps.
Darn.
