Night Sesh

I got into the water late – an eye doctor’s appointment after work held me up until 5:30. The waves looked great; they were a peaky combo of wind swell and NW ground swell. The mixed swells provide El Porto with fun corners, breaking the Berlin Wall of surf spots.

The waves were a bit softer than I had hoped; the peaks would break and the wave would flatten out, leaving me paddling frantically and without purpose. After a few duds, I caught a nice right; my palette became wet and my appetite grew large.

The water played HORSE with the sun, matching color for color until blackness. I kept saying “I will catch the next one in,” but broke my promise after each ride.

The Chevron refinery and the oil tankers lit the night and added an industrial flair. The dark sillouttes of waves were approaching. I looked into the water and could not see my board – I had to catch the next one in. A right was approaching. I popped my board into the water, looked over my shoulder, and paddled.

Dropping into the wave was like dropping into a black hole. The face was completely dark – it was sheltered from the horizon. It felt good. I made one, two, three lazy bottom turns. Although I could hardly see the wave, the ride stole the session.

I got back to my car, my feet numb and bleached by cold. I turned the key, the lights came on. It was 8 pm.