almost barelled

Got to the spot this morning and the parking lot was fenced off. I guess they decided it was no longer a public space and they’re gonna put a house on top instead. Never mind that the bluff moves an inch a year and more when the Nor’easters have have juice and the waves lap the causeway like the hare does the tortoise.

I find a spot to squeeze the Blue Flame where it’s off the road and on the shoulder. I hop over the fence and walk though all the survey markers. Looks by the foundation like it’s gonna be a tall one –great for the homeowner’s view and shitty for everyone else without ex-ray vision. The waves are pumping. It’s a solid four to six feet with no wind and an incoming tide.

I scramble back to the Blue Flame and pop the trunk lid. My suit and booties are dry as a bone –It’s been weeks since I’ve been in the water. Spring has brought rain, the colour green, and flatness like corn fields.

I left the Bonzer at home thinking it wouldn’t be big enough. I can see it now, sitting in it’s slot in the basement on the under the staircase racks. It’s like the ogre waiting for the goats; expect that it’s more like a sleek piece of artwork waiting for the right swell. And today would have been better than good enough but I underestimated and swell and the Green Machine will do just fine in terms of smile wrinkles on my face.

There’s no one out –it’s too early and I’m still asleep. I get back over the fence for a third time being careful not to snag my $600 rubber suit making it useless. I make my way down the muddy slope, booties now covered in a thick red mud, soon washed away by the frigid water. As I reach the shore I look up to see the third wave in a set detonating on the inside boulders. The one behind just beginning to bend into the take off zone and looks like it’s gonna pitch hollow.

I can’t bother to stretch. Instead I take the long paddle out and go slow and steady to warm my muscles. I’m still asleep and the first rays are peaking over the horizon. I make it out and make sure that I’m lined up with the tool shed and driftwood log. Triangulation –everything important comes in threes no? Here comes the first set. I sit and let the first two lift me up and drop me down their backsides like elevators.

The next one looks fat. I turn and stroke, taking the bend in the wave into consideration as I lean on one side to turn the board. I can feel the glide turn to push and I pop up, letting m feet fall naturally on the sweet spots as I race towards the bottom eyeing the spot in the flats where I’ll set the rail, dig my toes and arc back towards the belly. As I come up on the face I can see the crest start to pitch. I suck at getting barrelled, racing away instead to stay ahead of it.

But this time I stick my gloved hand in the face and crouch. It starts to pitch more and suddenly I can hear it! What’s that sound? It doesn’t sound like a void. It’s more like a ringing, a bell, or an alarm. Everything is dark, I’m on my back and I come to. The comforter is completely on my side of the bed and B looks frozen. Dammit. My alarm is going nuts so I switch it off. It’s raining outside again and the sun won’t make much light today. I gotta shower and make breakfast and go to the new job. It was just a dream. Both the Green Machine and the new Bonzer sit under the stairs in their slots, collecting dust and not seeing any action. I miss surfing.