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!