Connection is still there
Phone rings and drags me from just 5 hours of sleep but it turns out to be for a good cause when the cobwebs clear enough for me to check the message and discover that it was Steve. Call back and agree to go surfing with him. Steve lives on the estate, has his own business, a wife, a daughter and a fetus growing in his wife’s belly. Despite all of this, he is part of the force exodus.
I am especially psyched to surf with Steve because he was a big factor in me actually becoming a dedicated surfer six and a half years ago. He lent me one of his boards and drove us down to County Line. Interesting enough, one of the first times I went out with him back then, there was a mishap involving me and my leash wrapping around a toe and almost ripping it off. Net result was me having 3 stitches and being able to claim that I have had stitches from head to toe.
Steve drives us there in his white diesel pick up truck. He runs it on vegetable oil gathered from a local restaurant. We make a stop at a place where he filters the spent oil but it turns out that one panel does not have the juice to power the pump.
We arrive at Surfer’s Point and quickly don our wet suits rub sun protection on our heads even though the fog shrouds the sky over the coast. Both of us paddle out to an open spot where the small waves are pealing a bit and there’s a gap among the not too many surfers for a Sunday. Steve is on my 6’6 Al Merrick and I am on the 8 ft Waveline.
“I haven’t surfed for a year,” Steve says.
My first wave is a left and gives a nice 40 yard ride before I bail. Once again there is a lot of birds flying around. Several black dolphins swim leisurely by about 30 yards away. The waves keep coming. Steve does pretty well for not having surfed in so long. It is a lot easier for me being on an 8 footer. I catch one wave and easily carve it up like a turkey smooth as an electric carving knife but without the noise. The time comes to get out of the sea. I catch another left to bookend a mellow day of over cast small glassy wave surfing.
Meet with a dude who wants to sell me a glass didj for three hundred dollars but I decline after giving it a test. I’d buy it for less. Next, hang out with Casbar and exchange some music. Then it is time to perform with Francisco at a small Greek restaurant. We have not played for together for over 2 years but the connection is still there.
I am especially psyched to surf with Steve because he was a big factor in me actually becoming a dedicated surfer six and a half years ago. He lent me one of his boards and drove us down to County Line. Interesting enough, one of the first times I went out with him back then, there was a mishap involving me and my leash wrapping around a toe and almost ripping it off. Net result was me having 3 stitches and being able to claim that I have had stitches from head to toe.
Steve drives us there in his white diesel pick up truck. He runs it on vegetable oil gathered from a local restaurant. We make a stop at a place where he filters the spent oil but it turns out that one panel does not have the juice to power the pump.
We arrive at Surfer’s Point and quickly don our wet suits rub sun protection on our heads even though the fog shrouds the sky over the coast. Both of us paddle out to an open spot where the small waves are pealing a bit and there’s a gap among the not too many surfers for a Sunday. Steve is on my 6’6 Al Merrick and I am on the 8 ft Waveline.
“I haven’t surfed for a year,” Steve says.
My first wave is a left and gives a nice 40 yard ride before I bail. Once again there is a lot of birds flying around. Several black dolphins swim leisurely by about 30 yards away. The waves keep coming. Steve does pretty well for not having surfed in so long. It is a lot easier for me being on an 8 footer. I catch one wave and easily carve it up like a turkey smooth as an electric carving knife but without the noise. The time comes to get out of the sea. I catch another left to bookend a mellow day of over cast small glassy wave surfing.
Meet with a dude who wants to sell me a glass didj for three hundred dollars but I decline after giving it a test. I’d buy it for less. Next, hang out with Casbar and exchange some music. Then it is time to perform with Francisco at a small Greek restaurant. We have not played for together for over 2 years but the connection is still there.
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