W/S

On the spur of the moment, I was chosen to attend a training course in San Diego. Some "issues" came up, so I ended up not being able to bring my gear. However, the San Diego contingent was more than willing to accommodate.

Before my first class, I did a dawn patrol check to Windansea. There, I hooked up with Tom Tweed and Bill Andrews, two Windansea old timers. I really wasn't sure if anyone would show up in the morning, but there they were. After passing out the mac nuts and catching up with each other, we jumped in for a quick sesh.

Tom let me borrow one of his boards; a nice 9'3" longboard. I was stoked!

Surf was actually really good, with some waves a couple of feet overhead. There were light onshores, but it didn't seem to be affecting the surf too much.

Paddling out, I had already decided that I wasn't about to challenge the locals on the coveted rights. So I sat fairly deep on the north, waiting for whatever I could get. Started off very kook-like, falling off my first few attempts. Think I was a bit overeager.

Eventually, I got into a rhythm, hooking up with several good lefts. Everyone was favoring the rights, but the lefts were pretty decent. Tom's board worked well, except I was losing control whenever I stabbed a hard turn (I later realized that the back fin was that of a standard thruster, a lot smaller than what I'm used to).

I even managed to grab a few rights to myself, more on the inside. This was very surprising because the crowd was unusually thick that morn (someone counted 49 heads before 7 AM). Only one person dropped in on me the whole morning, and he immediately kicked out. Must've been the big "Windansea Surf Club" logo on the front of the board (definitely could not have been my measly surfing skills).

Of course, my high wave count did not go unnoticed. My "good" friend Bill Andrews eventually paddled over and loudly shouted to the lineup, "What's up with this? The Hawaii guy caught four lefts and no one dropped in on him? Something's wrong!"

Man, I wanted to bury my head underwater in embarrassment. But I was just giggling inside--just classic Andrews.

I caught a few more and then raced in so that I could take a shower before my class. But before I left, I was reintroduced to Scot Cherry, the local "enforcer." Also gave him a box of chocolates--think he was stoked.

As I was leaving, I offhandedly said, "See you later, Scotty." Oops! Wrong move. Scot stood upright, arms folded, towering over me and only half-jokingly said, "Nobody calls me Scotty except my grandmother." "Sorry, Mr. Cherry," was all I could think of saying (in a most joking manner). Things were cool. I easily made it to class after that.

You can't go wrong with friends like Tom and Bill, along with the rest of the San Diego contingent. Just watch out with the nicknames!

Aloha from LJ,