4.28.19 The Pointbreak was still Screwy

I a l m o s t bailed on this session.  But a couple of sets came and, while they were barely shoulder-high, they were enough to make me brave the rocks.

There were four people out, including a girl who I originally thought was Argentinean based on her Spanish.  As the session wore on it seemed more like she spoke English as a first language.  I believe this is the first time I've surfed this break with a female.

My first wave was my best wave.  I lucked into a good spot, wound up and hit the section pretty hard.  Upon descending, the next section threatened to fold over me and I grabbed my rail and went under it to safety.

It took a good hour for me to get my next wave.  The high tide was strangling the waves.  The ones that managed to break at an acceptable distance from the dry rocks tended to section off hard, and if one showed up which didn't, you had to be in the right spot.

I happened to paddle out past the pack a bit, risking a section dashing my dreams and body against the rocks of despair, and a wave happened to be arriving to meet me.  I heard one of the boys groan at my fortune as I whirled around for it.

I hit it well, but too high and got stuck up at the top. Had the tide been lower I might have made it back down.  I flamingo-ed out with all of my weight on my front foot and held my balance to the point of fading.

Then the three shitlord locals came by and were not letting anyone have a go at anything.  Yeah, I could've paddled past them and eaten wave foam on all of the sections-off but I decided to go in after twenty more minutes of waiting for a wave in.

4.28.19 Rising Tide Rising Swell Beachbreak Sesh

I woke up about three times this morning, the last one being at 506, meaning I was about twenty minutes late from my normal departure time. Luckily I'd put all of the stuff I needed (save for coffee and Hydro Flask) into the ride the night before.

The swell was strengthening as the morning wore on.  I was really hoping the beachbreak would start macking with some makeable ones.

I had a bunch of late drops and made all of them.  I floatered as I took off on one and that one turned into an airdrop with no pay-off.

I had one where the end section was slightly in front but screwed up the timing and hit it too early.

I had a couple of really racy rights, the best one on which I felt like I was really generating speed, but the only thing that helped with was the height of my flop over the close-out.

I had about a half-hour break in between waves and decided to bail to see what the point was doing...

4.23.19 Unexpected Later AM Sesh

I thought I was going to be dropping my eldest off at school and as such, wouldn't be able to surf. 

School was cancelled so we made plans to go to the beach.

The waves were better than expected.  I took my Tomo down expecting them to be small but there were some shoulder-high sets out thar.

I bailed on my first airdrop.  I didn't think it was worth trying as it jacked up faster than expected and there was nowhere to go.

I did have a nice off-the-lip on a left which I pulled.  I was amped at how skatey the Tomo felt.

I had another fun one on which I pumped dangerously high in a steep part of the wave.  I came down with tons of speed after a couple of pumps but with nowhere to go.

I also did the following abortion of a carving 180 attempt:

The wind lifted.  The tide dropped and with it my spirits.  In I went.

4.21.19 Clean but Smaller Beachbreak

I decided to go pretty slowly down to the beach.  As I crossed into a town, I thought I was going to hit a dog as it crossed the street but thankfully someone had already hit it for me.  I rolled harmlessly over it while my headlights reflected the freshly red concrete.

I pulled in to the development and there were some people walking around despite first light being about fifteen minutes away.  I attributed this to still drunken revelers.

El Salvador is on full-on vacation mode.  These partiers brought their preferred fútbol team's flag, Santa Tecla.

I was really hoping to surf the pointbreak today.  The break to the west looked juicy but the point itself was sucking. 

I paddled out at the beachbreak to see if I could salvage any of this diminishing swell.  The water was as clear as I've ever seen it here.

I had a lot of pumps but nothing really resulting.  I did get a tiny cover-up on a left.  I was folded into myself like a pretzel to fit into it. 

I got a right on which I did a nice roundhouse cutback but nothing left wave-wise after that.

On another right I got a nice whack but again, nothing left due to the gutlessness.

I crabgrabbed into some tiny right barrels but got maybe a blink's worth of tunnel vision combined.

I likely won't be surfing tomorrow as it will be even smaller.  Too bad because my eldest has the day off from school...

4.18.19 Negative Low Tide Beachbreak

My blog coach said I needed more pics so here is a blurry selfie of your fearless blogger with his murda'd out whip

My first view at first light revealed a little texture on the water.

It was while finishing up my coffee that I felt pangs of  what would very likely have to be an inconvenient poop.

Now, am I saying the lack of having an available bathroom would lead me to poop in the water? Absolutely not!  But I might jettison some cargo at sea...!

Am I saying being all alone in the water with not a soul being aware might convince me to defecate? Heavens no!  But I might just conduct a Viking funeral sans flambé...!

I'm going to have to break the comedy Rule of Three on this one as I couldn't think of a turd one.

I barely took another glance at the point.  I really thought this would be the call given the shallowness of the tide.  But it was strangling the swell as it came in.  Combining small waves with a negative low tide at a cobblestone point is a mathematical expression resulting in short-term depression.  I'd have to take whatever the beachbreak offered.

It looked as bad as I imagined.  The swell wasn't showing much here either but every now and again hope would be offered in the form of a corner.

My wade-out was ill-timed.  A big set unloaded and I lost control of my board.  I got a shallow fin slice on my wrist bone before getting absolutely demolished in waist-deep water.

I put on a pumping clinic!  I was getting a lot of speed but not much to show for it.  I had a couple of floaters on which I held for a while but kept pussing out knowing how shallow the flats were (knee-high).

I had a sick airdrop on a closeout.  I wouldn't have gone but I'd committed by the time I realized it wasn't going to open up.

My sickest was my only right.  I got a mini-pump in after a late drop on which I thought I was going down.  Then I swooped around and demolished it, but ended up going down as my board connected.  I was excited to look for my rooster tail of spray signature on the water's surface but another wave was coming and I was stressing to avoid being slammed into the sand.

It got less and less makable.  I knew if I went in I was probably done for the day as the point was probably still suffering from suckage.  I went and checked it and there was one dude out who caught nothing for the fifteen minutes or so that I watched while walking, then standing on a small cliff.

True to my word, I ended up not pooping!

4.16.19 Low Tide Tight Window Drops with Chuleta!

Chuleta and I had been trying to sync up since I moved here nine months ago to surf.  We were FINALLY able to line it up for this morning.

I got there early, finished my coffee and took some hits off my Hydro Flask of water.  Chuleta rolled up right on time as always.  We hugged it out and decided the point sucked.  The tide was so low and it just wasn't working.  We headed towards San Blas.  He moved there with his family in the mid-90's and live there until 2003 when my former stepdad stopped renting the house. 

As we were reliving the glory days of our youth his voice started getting emotional.  I looked at him quizzically and he broke down crying.  He said he's always admired me as a person, businessman, but mostly as a friend.  He apologized for having shone me on and flaked so many times over the years.  I was grateful but also a little embarrassed for the guy.

We got to the beachbreak.  It was predictably crappy-looking given the low tide, but much more workable than the point.

For about twenty minutes, I was catching waves every two minutes.  I even caught one with a one-paddle take-off!  The waves would jack up and if you were able to sniff out the prime takeoff spot you would be rewarded.  I had a wave on which I was at the very top pumping and it felt as though it was going to toss me as my deck started angling towards the beach.

I had one really satisfying THWACK from a snap/off-the-lip.

Most of the waves I was leaning hard on my fins so as to make the drop.  I blew one wave on a right not off the drop, but right after when the wave imploded.

I didn't see Chuleta catch a single wave, probably because the fucker flaked on me and never showed!

Below is a picture I snapped of da boyz (Chuleta would have been on my left)!

El Salvador, where you can pay $5 for a haircut at a nice place and still be ripped off!

4.15.19 Surprise LATE AM Session with Ladies in Tow

I wanted to go surf early today but m'lady'd said she wanted to go to the beach.

We got in the car around 930 and headed down, only to get caught in nasty traffic as we sniffed the outskirts of La Libertad (town).  It took us about twenty minutes to get through that bumping of bumpers and we were finally released.  We all got out, gathered our stuff, and 'screened up.  I was shocked at the still-smooth ocean surface despite it being just shy of 11AM.

I was amping to get out there as there was a semblance of corners out there.  They were fat, to be sure, but they were opening up somewhat.

I paddled out right at our lunch spot (they charge $10/adult to use the facilities, which can be applied towards lunch).  I caught one within five minutes of having perched.  It didn't do much of anything, just a fatty with only some push.

There were two highlights of the session.  I made it around a corner on a left and was able to do a nice off-the-lip and stomp it.  As I gathered my board and paddled out, Jerson of Surf Strong Surf School whistled his approval from near the sand.  I gave him a what's-up head nod.

The second highlight was seeing Pando's' cousin, whom I hadn't spoken to since maybe the early 2000's.  He was out on a bigger board with Cucaracho.  I saw him catch a meaty right but while he made the drop he immediately biffed it.  Line in head, I paddled over to say hi.  He was amped to see me and then I said, "Wow, man, you've gotten better!" with my trademarked shit-eating grin.  He was mildly amused at best.

We talked story for a bit, and then I caught a really racy right.  I had a questionable spot to hit but I opted to pump.  There was to be no pay-off for my patience, as the thing shut down on me after about three pumps.  I had nowhere to go with my speed.  I proned out and went in to see if Raquel needed help.

While trudging back to our HQ for our time at the beach, I heard a loud SMOOCH as I walked past a gaggle of gals.  I was being sexually harassed!  FINALLY!

View of a set wave right before noon.  The wind stayed light until about 12:30 which is rare.

4.13.19 Beach to Point to Beach

The depth of the low tide was right at my check of the forecasts, 3:30 this morning.  By the time I paddled out about 540, surely the tide would be swinging up to my advantage.

When I checked the point at first light, I saw that it seemed to be opening up more on the inside ones but not enough to make me want to paddle out there.

I had dreams of walking out to the beachbreak and seeing makeable slabs folding over on the lefts.  And then I walked out and BOOM, saw one!  Long story short, I saw one other one that I likely could've backdoored and made with a timely pump had I been fifty feet closer!

I got really amped, definitely the most amped I've been all year.  I was screaming my approval to the surf gods.

But that was all there was to see.  I diagnosed it as the tide still being too low as everything just seemed to reel away way too quickly.  I was eventually swept down the beach and was caught in a rip.  I saw only despair around me so I went in and walked to the point.

Once at the point, I saw three guys out, one whose silhouette looked familiar.  It turns out it was the unmistakable local legend Don Roberto.  He pioneered Punta Roca in the 1970s and liked it so much he bailed on life in the US to run his restaurant/tour business here.

I caught a wave within eight minutes of having perched.  I was mindful of the priority situation, but the guy outside missed it and Roberto and his buddy had decided to paddle way inside about thirty seconds before this wave was visible.  I got a pump on it and a cutback as well after which I kicked out.

Bob expressed his dismay at his fortune.  He'd been waiting for a wave for a half-hour.  I apologized for having been in position out of respect to the guy and he told me it was his fault for paddling out of positioning.

He didn't recognize me, but when I introduced myself as my mother's son (he was friends with her starting in the 70s when she ran away from home to live at the beach) he correctly guessed my name.  He asked me how long it had been since I'd spoken to my dad which I thought was an odd question.  He said he'd read about him in the news and I was as confused as I was curious.  It turned out he thought my ex-stepfather was my dad.

Once that was cleared up he said the guy was a real prick and that one time my mom came down to visit at his restaurant and she'd been beaten.  I told him I'd been on the receiving end of those myself.
Not sure why but the conversation stalled a bit after that.

I was in position for a macker.  I was a bit late but not too bad.  The wind held my board back a bit but I pushed through and down.  As I'm starting my bottom turn, I inexplicably just flopped over onto my back.  I half-expected to skip off the water given my speed but I didn't.  It may have been a good thing as the section that folded over looked beastly from the back.

I had a race with another sectioning wave.  I was flirting with disaster, pumping up and down near the top of the wave.  I descended and the thing detonated just inside of my backside rail which spelled doom for my chances of making it around the section.

My last wave there was a smaller one.  I managed a couple of ok top turns before compressing into a cutback.

We sat forever as the high tide swamped us out.  I'd had thoughts of bailing to try the beachbreak again with the higher tide but I thought that the river go-in would've been sketchy if a set came.  And if I paddled all the way to the sand it would eat up an easy fifteen minutes between the paddling and the walking.

I watched as the smoke trail from a local's burning trash heap go towards the ocean then flagellate in its indecision until it appeared to be taken over by the budding onshore.

Then I just snap-decided to go in at the river.  I watched for sets and when a small one came I hung out and used the waves' backs to propel me over as many rocks as possible.  The go-in was perfect, if you don't count my slow-motion slip and butt bonk on a rock!

I walked all the way back doing my best to inhale as little as possible of the trash fire and took a look at it with the extra water.  It was burlier and my chances at an open face seemed unlikely.  There were no amp screams on this attempt.  I did get a pump in on one and an off-the-lip on another.  A big set came and I took one in, not wanting to be caught outside as the swell reinforcers arrived and stranded me out there longer than I wanted.

4.6.19 Shipwreck and Shorebreak

I thought about going back to La Bocana again this day.  But the tide was going to be dropping and last week's thorn (turned out to be some synthetic thingamabobber my wife was able to pull out almost immediately) made me go back to old habits.

I was hopeful that last week's swell had cleaned up the point.  My first view of point proper was exciting, though a bit small, a nice peeling wave with some hollowness.

I walked down and watched it and saw only nasty sections-off and even some that sectioned off so hard I would classify them as close-outs, with no rideable shoulder remaining.

And so I went...

It looked promising.  I waded out and lifted my leg up to get over the whitewash.  The wave hit me perfectly and I immediately felt my junk become awash with saltwater, which really made the ol' sores sting.

The vast majority of waves were either too slow (but big, very characteristic of this spot since I started surfing it in high school) or dumping hard or if you were lucky you got one look at a section.

The aforementioned being mentioned I did catch one with a weak wall.  I did a mellow top turn and did a weak bonk.

I caught one really fun wave on which I descended all the way, really compressed into my bottom turn and launched off the lip, though I lost the board in the process. 

I caught one right over which I flopped after a pump.  The wind turned about an hour early today.  I headed back towards the point where my ride back to Tecla awaited and saw three silhoutted heads bobbing in the distance, at the El Cocal beachbreak. The point seems to be on everyone's shitlist until it sorts out its bathymetry issues.