We got there a little later on this day, but the waves were downright decent!
We paddled out just south of the stairs here the sandbar was.
I caught a left about five minutes thereafter. I pumped a few times and eyed the oncoming section. I hit it well, threw a lot of spray, but lost my hold on my fins and splayed out. While in the wash, I focused on keeping my feet on for as long as possible in the off chance that I'd be able to right myself. The chance never came and, had it not been for my will to live, I would have drowned.
There was another wave I caught that I raced to the shoulder and was doing a fair job of keeping up with it. I was cruising around the last section that prevented me from reaching open face when the lip crashed down just inside of my inside rail, upsetting my line and throwing me comically towards the shore.
AH...! The wave of the day...
I was sitting all alone on the outside when another left came. I paddled hard for it, thought for a second that I'd missed it, but dropped in. I built up speed by pumping through the too-steep sections and eyed a guy paddling out of the corner of my eye. The bastard, instead of trying to paddle inside of me or duckdiving like any decent human being, meekly attempts to make me aware of his presence (in the process, shattering my concentration) by letting out a whimper of a hoot.
I'm not going to say I would have made the high-speed cutty attempt in the too-fat section of the wave I was on, but I will say it pissed me off. Of course I didn't say anything, but I was fuming.
The SW wind turned straight south and it turned to sea to rags, so we were over it.