The waves on this day didn't look great. They were ok in size, but they were closing out all too often. I elected Missed-it Mike as session captain because he can be indecisive and I thought it'd be funny. After much prodding, he meekly suggested he wasn't interested in surfing there. We drove from 20th St down to N. Torrey and though we saw a sick left from the road, we were faced with the same scenario there, just smaller.
We hoofed it back to 20th. Missed-it Mike made it clear he wasn't interested in surfing, but we were able to strong-arm him into it. Thanks to my years of feedback, as well as this blog, MiM has become more self-aware about his complaining. His new game is to complain and keep us guessing as to if he's seriously uncomfortable or if he is just trying to be cute.
I suited up into my 4/3, straining to remember if my wetsuit was this stiff before Panama or if I was just being a pansy, coddled by the tropical waters of yesterweek.
Gauging by the wind's chill, I decided to go ahead and RUBBER UP! Booties came on, and I slipped into my virgin 4mm gloves I picked up months ago at the Rip Cur Outlet northwest of Lowers in San Clemente.
MiM was giving me grief over the Panama pictures, saying that the crab-grab was wack. While I can't say I disagree, EVERYONE* in the water agreed that he was just jealous he hadn't invented a new barrel-riding technique.
He briefed Trevor on my tendency to crab-grab and they were cheering me on to my first wave, a sick right that was quick to develop (unlike the author). Hearing calls for crab-grabs, I tucked into my old familiar stance and got barreled. The wave dumped over and I zoomed through the barrel fast, tucking my leading (stalling) arm behind me and went quite a ways through the spinning hydro-tunnel.
I had quite the thrill going quite that far. When I pull in to a closeout, I have a certain expectation as to how far/how long I expect to go. For every half-second I go beyond that expectation, the euphoria increases exponentially.
I surfaced and let out a hoot.
On the next wave, I pulled a proper pig-dog and did my damnedest to stall hard. A stranger paddling about 20 feet inside of me who had just snagged a good one gave me a long hoot as the lip finally cascaded over me. I don't remember what happened, but I didn't make it (I'm pretty sure I over-corrected into the wall).
I caught a very similar right, tried it again, and in my burning desire to get barreled with a proper pig-dog stance while NOT going into the wall, had the lip drive my throat into my knee. OUCH! Painful and a little scary, but no long-term damage. Swallowing left me sore for a few hours afterward.
I later caught a left and, upon first pump, I was reacquainted with my glorious DHD board and the speed its rail generates. Though I kept pumping, the beautiful curves of my foam masterpiece were not enough as I slowly lost the race to the speeding lip.
The waves' consistency slowed down and the likelihood of closeouts increased. MiM, having an eight-hour day ahead of him bailed. I waited about ten minutes before a belly-boardable wave came (!) and hit the sand.
*not really.
"If the best surfer in the water is the one having the most fun, Eddie P would be a promising amateur who eventually burns out and is forced to perform 'favors' for surf wax" -Anonymous
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Showing posts with label Crab-Grab. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Crab-Grab. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
11.23.2011 Playa Larga, Bocas del Toro, Panamá: Last Sesh of the Trip
On this day, we were joined by DJ Struntz, a senior staff photographer for Surfing magazine; Joaquin, a Argentinean vacationer; and, with us as always, Daf.
Rather than deal with the long boat ride from the Red Frog docks, we opted to paddle from the beach to the boat, which saved us a half-hour in the boat. We made it out without incident and headed east towards Playa Larga. It was amazing how much more quickly we got there with our new plan.
The waves were bigger and heavier than our previous two sessions at this spot, nearly a week prior. We anchored pretty far out to compensate for this, but well west of the mysto reef, which would warn us when a set was coming by breaking, then quickly foaming out.
Seeing as to how this would be my last boat sesh for a while, I wanted to be the first one out. In my haste, while tossing the Sharp Eye (same one I surfed on my second sesh here) overboard, I didn't check to see if the leash was clear. It was pinned under other boards, so the board went flying out but then rubber-banded back. Luckily, it stayed over the rail of the boat and the board and boat didn't collide.
After a little ribbing from the guys, I dove in to the beautiful Caribbean water, grabbed the board, and paddled towards the waves. Once there, I paddled for the lefts in front of the dead tree lineup marker, but they weren't working right. I went back to my sweet, sweet rights and within fifteen minutes, found my first ride.
I pig-dog-tucked into the barrel and it quickly decimated me. I gently glanced off the bottom and got back on my board.
I watched as Daf, still paddling in from the boat, was in the perfect spot for a set wave and hooted him into it. That was definitely a sick one, but from my vantage point, I would never see the post-takeoff wave.
About twenty minutes later, I caught a nice, really lined-up right. Rather than stalling and trying to get barreled, I stoop up straight and dropped in. I banked off the bottom and hit the top of the wave, coming down and gaining a little speed. I repeated my actions, though not quite as powerfully this time, then kicked out next to DJ, who told me, "Nice ride".
I was having trouble catching waves on this session. The waves would be there, but I would paddle and pull back because of the too-racy or utter-closeout nature of my chances.
Finally, I caught a good-sized right late and crab-grabbed into the barrel. As I was dropping, my leading hand was in the wall but I realized that I was going to need all of my speed so I tucked it back, parallel to my trunk.
Within fifteen seconds of my coming up, I heard from DJ (regarding my crab-grab), "I can't say I've ever seen that before, but it seems to be working for him". I said to him, "Keep it between us, bro".
The wind came up hard and I was over it. Joaquin and I paddled towards the boat and got in, followed ten minutes later by DJ and Daf. We started back west towards Red Frog Beach and it was a brutal ride in the panga. I elected to stand and use both arms to stabilize myself by grabbing on to the overhead supports for the shade. No one in our crew got seasick, despite the back-and-forth tumult. We dumped out somewhat far off Red Frog Beach and I kept my hand to my sunglasses so as not to lose them in the water. My sunscreen floated up from my boardshort pocket and, wanting to get out of the way as quickly as possible, I stuck it in my mouth end-first and paddled in.
Rather than deal with the long boat ride from the Red Frog docks, we opted to paddle from the beach to the boat, which saved us a half-hour in the boat. We made it out without incident and headed east towards Playa Larga. It was amazing how much more quickly we got there with our new plan.
The waves were bigger and heavier than our previous two sessions at this spot, nearly a week prior. We anchored pretty far out to compensate for this, but well west of the mysto reef, which would warn us when a set was coming by breaking, then quickly foaming out.
Seeing as to how this would be my last boat sesh for a while, I wanted to be the first one out. In my haste, while tossing the Sharp Eye (same one I surfed on my second sesh here) overboard, I didn't check to see if the leash was clear. It was pinned under other boards, so the board went flying out but then rubber-banded back. Luckily, it stayed over the rail of the boat and the board and boat didn't collide.
After a little ribbing from the guys, I dove in to the beautiful Caribbean water, grabbed the board, and paddled towards the waves. Once there, I paddled for the lefts in front of the dead tree lineup marker, but they weren't working right. I went back to my sweet, sweet rights and within fifteen minutes, found my first ride.
I pig-dog-tucked into the barrel and it quickly decimated me. I gently glanced off the bottom and got back on my board.
I watched as Daf, still paddling in from the boat, was in the perfect spot for a set wave and hooted him into it. That was definitely a sick one, but from my vantage point, I would never see the post-takeoff wave.
About twenty minutes later, I caught a nice, really lined-up right. Rather than stalling and trying to get barreled, I stoop up straight and dropped in. I banked off the bottom and hit the top of the wave, coming down and gaining a little speed. I repeated my actions, though not quite as powerfully this time, then kicked out next to DJ, who told me, "Nice ride".
I was having trouble catching waves on this session. The waves would be there, but I would paddle and pull back because of the too-racy or utter-closeout nature of my chances.
Finally, I caught a good-sized right late and crab-grabbed into the barrel. As I was dropping, my leading hand was in the wall but I realized that I was going to need all of my speed so I tucked it back, parallel to my trunk.
Within fifteen seconds of my coming up, I heard from DJ (regarding my crab-grab), "I can't say I've ever seen that before, but it seems to be working for him". I said to him, "Keep it between us, bro".
The wind came up hard and I was over it. Joaquin and I paddled towards the boat and got in, followed ten minutes later by DJ and Daf. We started back west towards Red Frog Beach and it was a brutal ride in the panga. I elected to stand and use both arms to stabilize myself by grabbing on to the overhead supports for the shade. No one in our crew got seasick, despite the back-and-forth tumult. We dumped out somewhat far off Red Frog Beach and I kept my hand to my sunglasses so as not to lose them in the water. My sunscreen floated up from my boardshort pocket and, wanting to get out of the way as quickly as possible, I stuck it in my mouth end-first and paddled in.
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