Thursday: Essentially session #10 redux. Too mushy. The rising tide and continuing short-interval swell kept the waves deceptive. They’d look like something you could catch and ride, but the energy level wasn’t there. Plus the frost was still wearing off the morning – props to the dawn patrollers; I couldn’t force myself out when I saw the temperature was only 37 degrees! – so my hands ached with cold. Reward was found instead in the numerous porpoises (dolphins?) still popping up all around and the loveliness of the sunshine start to the day.
Friday: The interval had picked up enough – but the swell direction shifted as well, meaning the Jetty was flat, so a paddle out to Bunkers was required. Typically, as I suited up, the ocean remained small, a veritable lake between the surfers in the water and me on the beach, but the moment I stepped into the water, the sets marched in, slamming me back repeatedly, making reaching the outside impossible. Except I finally got there. Unfortunately the effort of making it outside used up most of what pre-work time I had. Also unfortunately, my lack of confidence caused me to pass up on a couple semi-late-breaking waves, causing a fellow surfer to mutter, “Those were good waves, Jen.” The disappointment in his voice! I must redeem myself. My immediate attempt to do better did result in a wrongheaded attempt at a left, which found me washed almost to shore, deciding to call it a day.