January 1: New Year’s Day.
In nothing short of miraculous, the swell dropped, the sky cleared, the wind slowed, the tide and timing lined up, and I was able to start 2008 with a surf! Bunkers was chest-to-head-high, clean, somewhat inconsistent, but plenty of waves. The crowd doubled in the time it took me to put on my wetsuit and had tripled by the time we left – not to mention the fume-spewing ORV riders zipping up and down the dunes. And the people “walking” their dogs by driving too fast down the wave slope, the pack racing behind. But I digress.
Even better than my own session, after I’d caught some waves, we shifted to the Jetty, where the waves rolled in about knee-to-waist high with a noticeable lack of current (relative to the typically strong pull of the water on that end of the spit), which allowed Nick to have a paddle out. Unfortunately most of the waves lacked the strength to propel even lightweight Nick forward, but he caught enough to have fun, had a good paddle around – and was ready to get out because the water’s coldness chilled him to the core rather quickly, despite the layers of neoprene. (The fact that he didn’t wear the gloves I’d packed likely contributed to the assertion he’d had enough.) I didn’t mind at all; my arms felt like overcooked noodles from all the paddling around. (Note to self: a two-week holiday binge on cookies, cake, candy and multi-course meals does not lend to better surf technique. What a motivator to get back into shape. My arms still ache.)
Overall, a mellow, but triumphant session for both of us.