Seal Goes Off
I am still trying to recover from yesterday. Spent all morning buying lumber and four 60lb bags of concrete at Home Depot and setting three fence posts in concrete to pull back up the neighbor's fence which is falling over, all while wind is coming up stronger and stronger at Seal and I am becoming increasingly frantic. Knew it would be good because there were 5 foot waves there Saturday and the swell was building.
Threw my Naish 8'11 and the little Sean Ordonnez 8'2 in the car just in case and rushed over to Seal, gnawing on a cold toasted cheese that Katie made for me. At this point it was paging 17. Checked the wind meter in the snack shop and it was lulling down to 13 so I decided to rig the 6.5 Koa. (17 is borderline for my 6.0, which I like better and is more stable.)
Got down to the waterline about 2:15 and saw Julio, who was bagging out his
5.8. He told me I wouldn't be overpowered then added, contradictorily, that the wind had just filled in. Indeed. Way overpowered on the first reach, skipping over 2-5 foot swells going every which direction. Blew the very first jibe. Came straight back in and downhauled and outhauled the sail. Good thing it's really a freeride sail, with carbon battens.
Proceeded to sail for two solid hours...wind was averaging 18, maybe 19, with big gusts that completely lifted me. Most of the time I was regretting not rigging the 6.0. However there were also some lulls, and when you are going out over 5 foot peelers it helps to have power. At one point I hit a two foot wall of whitewater, got over OK but it stalled me, got planing again and was heading straight at a peeling five footer...no escape...went downwind a tad but no escape....hit that sucker and blasted straight up, 10 plus feet, then fell straight back down because I had turned so far into the wind. (Chicken).
That was the haulmark that the swells were setting up cleaner...cupla rides later I came in right on the cusp of a long, chunkie peeler, was able to get three left turns to the lip followed by three rides down the face--definitely at least 5 feet high. A better wave rider would have finished with a final right but there is zero wind for that maneuver at Seal and I'm not that good.
So after two solid hours of this kind of thing it is getting windier and windier. I am trying to hang in there for 2 full hours, which I do, but almost all the kiters are gone now (pity) and more and more sailors are lining up on the beach. I'm trying to really aggressively attack the outside jibe, flipping the sail while shooting down a swell, no feet in straps. But the water is just boiling up everywhere and I get jerked into the water. (F***ing 6.5 is too big). I'm worrying that I'm so overpowered and so tired that if something breaks I won't be able to self-rescue. Finally sail in to the beach. Julio (5.8) and Dan (6.0) are standing there, reporting: Tired. Overpowered. Julio calls it a day. Dan adjusts his sail and goes back out.
I'm standing there and it's just getting windier and windier. This is 4:30. Two Seal Beach ladies walk by and ask me what the wind is blowing. "Twenty" I say. "Miles per hour?" one asks. "Miles. Knots. whatever you got," I say vaguely. "And that's just about perfect?" the lady asks. "Yes, that's perfect," I reply, standing stupidly on the beach looking out at a very wild day, now with very few people out.
Finally turn around and drag my stuff up to the derigging area. [ed. note: 200 yards of soft sand to the rigging area] Everybody is derigging, whining. "I heard you calling for your mommy," somebody taunts a kiter, rolling up a 14. "F*** yeah, I had her on speed-dial," he quips.
I go look at the pager and it says 22, gusting 28. Sunset says 25 (That's usually the same as Seal outside). F***. Am I too tired to re-rig? I've got the 5.2 and the Sean O. in the car. Figure: Gotta roll up the big s*** first. I do. Pull out the Sean O. Fin I used in Hawaii is f***ed up. Switch fins. Look out at the beach. Not as much sand blowing. It's now 5:15. I've still got to mow the lawn. Convince myself it's dropping.
Drive home drinking a Corona. Takes 1.5 Corona's to finish front and
back.
Fall asleep at the dinner table.
Shoulda gone back out.
--Jack of Hearts
Chris: Good story, we'll get it posted soon! Debi & I had an un-blow-off-able wedding reception to go to Sat afternoon, so we drove up to the lake [Isabella] Sunday like morons. Did I say LIKE morons? We clearly ARE morons, as the lake was suckin' hard. 15 West, about 63 degrees, f*** it. Headed home, C-Street starts kickin' up, 15, 18, 20, hell ya! Pull into the lot, pager's showing 22, WooHoo! Get the Exocet 88 out, put a fin in it, reach for the 4.7 --- Dang, gotta poop! Go & poop, come back and now it's 26 average, gusting to 40! There's a guy my exact size (sail #G-37, ?) way overpowered on his 4.7, can't keep it glued down outside, looping and Spocking on the inside. If this guy's getting worked, I'm going to DIE. Sissied out and came home. You should have seen it, though, what an awesome sight. C-Street is wide open to the ocean, no kelp or jetties or anything, so the seas just roll in, was quite spectacular, of course the camera's at home. Oh well.
--Spennie