Subject: PatienceFor two days now Satellite Varsity Team Leader Kara Lynch and I have attempted to do what we love most, only to be thwarted by
a) high wind
b) weird high tide, riptides, or something, we can't know
On day one we never went in, only sat and walked on the beach. Kara philosophically talked about Nature and the ocean being in constant flux, that we must bide our time, must learn patience. That's why she is the varsity team leader.
Day two seemed better at first. Less wind, nicely shaped waves.
"It looked good from the parking lot."
But it took forever to paddle out past the unrelenting sets. There was too much water coming at us in the high tide, too much current pulling us southward constantly. Like ants in a flushing toilet we struggled, unaided by our longboards that are too big to duck dive under the onslaught of whitewater. Kara especially was a champ since she hasn't been out since last August. Feel the icy burn, indeed.
Eventually we made it out, only to spend the next 3 hours sitting and paddling paddling paddling around in search of just the right take-off spot for the elusive, big yet mushy waves. No mad rides, no sweet rides, just a couple of lukewarm, ultimately unsatisfying lies. We did see Skip Frye out there, at least.
Later in the van as K's blue toes thawed we agreed that there were several moments during the 3 hours out there that were kind of pleasant.
Yet I, for one, have no regrets. For the rest of the day I felt that physically worked over kind of relaxed, where some of the layers of stale get power washed away. Plus friends spending time with friends is yes.
Today The Capt'n predicts much better conditions for the Team.
If we could only convince Sea Monkey to come out with us this afternoon. Somebody has a tendency to become a brain on a stick, viewing "the body" from afar, regarding it as an inconvenience to be ignored, resented, abused.
The Capt'n seems to be having a feeling about Sea Monkey not wanting to come out and play with us. Perhaps it would be more constructive if I just esplained to her how she always feels a lot happier as a disembodied face hovering above the glassy sets rolling in at sunset.
Remember, Sea Monkey?