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Saturday, November 24, 2018

11.24.18 Pointbreak Sunrise Session

My wife wasn't into me going surfing on this day.  The previous evening, she'd reminded me that our eldest's ballet recital rehearsal was today at 930. I thought, if I leave with enough time I can arrive right around first light, which is what I did.

Thanks to my wonky sleep schedule, I woke up without an alarm at 330.  I tried to go back to sleep and gave up after our youngest began wailing.  I tried to get her to come to our bed but her Mami appeared behind her and she somehow preferred her for soothing purposes.

I got in the car and left at 458 and got there at 540.  I got a little static from the guy at the front because I was there so early.  They have a rule wherein guests can't use the pool/showers/club area until 830 but I've learned that if I tell them I'm just going to the beach they're cool with it.  After a three-minute delay, I drove in.

The point looked good enough that I barely gave the beachbreak any consideration, despite how good it had been to me the last couple of sessions. 

There was one dude out but he was sitting on the shoulder on a bigger board, which is usually a sign there won't be a battle for waves.  I waded through the river towards my paddle-out path and soaked in the colors of the sunrise.  The sun's top third was visible in its orange glory.

Within five minutes I caught my best wave.  I did three turns on it and was amping.

On my second wave I did two turns, then kicked out as the wave fizzled a little close to the inside. As I splashed down and recovered, my buttocks happened to gently land on a submerged rock.  Back in my twenties this sensation would have driven me into a panic but I guess I care less overall now?

The waves vacillated between the main take-off point and the swing-wide point.  If you were in the perfect spot you could get a pump in and make it around the section, but the swing-wides seemed to have a soft shoulder.  The main take-off was great because at first turn the wall was very bowly.

I had a wave that was iffy from the main and I saw the swing-wide section off.  Normally I would just kick out but for whatever reason I went up and smashed it, throwing a good amount of spray in the process.


As the tide continued to drop along with the consistency, I longed for the sweet curves of the beachbreak.  With each subsequent wave I was more committed to staying at the point break, but then a local paddled out and where there's one dude, there tends to be a gaggle.

I caught an ok wave and rode it pretty far in.  I started surfing this wave almost twenty years ago and there was always a little beach area I could use for egress purposes.  I aimed for it (it's right in front of a big ceiba tree), while keeping my eyes glued to three jutting rocks in between the shore and me.

It was a bitch to go in and I spent five minutes doing the eggshell dance.  I vowed to never again go in that way, at least at that low a tide.  I beat feet to the club area and asked a guard the time.  He told me it was 728 so I walked briskly to the beachbreak, convinced I could buck the closeout-causing low tide and contentment-killing inconsistency and snag some more waves.

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