Rain rain.. lets go play.
Waking up to a non-working surfmobile wasn’t in today’s surf forecast, but nevertheless happened and I had to find transportation. A borrowed whip (thanks mom) got me safely to coffee, through the pelting rain, and down to Redondo Beach, where I met my surf dad Frank Paine to do a little ocean reconnaissance. Surveying the beaches from veterans park, our eyes became fixated on a spot that we both agreed looked manageable, and we suited up for some ocean therapy (after a few more swigs of coffee).
The Pacific was in a fabulous frenzy. The strong offshore wind, kicking up by the minute, was creating a frothy mist over the peaks of the incoming sets and the seals seemed to be uneasy, continuously barking at me, Frank, and a few other souls and getting much too close for comfort. The black sky, jade green and grey water, and dimples of rain blanketing the surface had us feeling like we were playing in stormy wonderland. Upon looking at the waves from the parking lot, we wondered if we were going to catch anything worth writing home about, but after paddling out the ocean started gently heaving and we split peaks left and right, dancing back and forth on perfect a-frames. We were joined in the magic by South Bay longboard legend Kris Hall, and Frank and I watched the master at work while he switched stances and rode the nose with his classic old school style.
The swell and wind started to pick up and the ocean and sky started to mourn, turning a creamy black and making my bright blue board and the few boats out on the horizon pop intensely against the darkness, almost as if they were the only colored objects in a black and white film. Frank and I caught a wave in together (which I ever so gracefully fell on) and we walked up the beach, barely beating the overflowing storm drains starting to trickle into the sea. A seal that we saw in the water with one fin up in the air when we parked was right where we left it, saying hello upon entry goodbye upon exit. Jose Barahona, my surfboard shaper and sea sensei, pulled up alongside Frank and I for a surf check as we were changing out of our wet attire. He soon left to go grab his own water vessel and share in the rain stoke.
I hopped in my (mom’s) breakfast burrito-bound car and found friends and locals hiding from the downpour and sharing food and conversation at Brother’s. Frank and I ate, did some artwork, and parted ways, feeling grateful for a full morning of play and stormy magic.
