Winter

    
     We have been lucky so far with a mild interlude from fall into winter. Now it is here and it isn't so mild anymore. The recent swell event was dark windy and cold. There were less than 1/2 a dozen surfers at choice spots in the area. The waves were pumping and the offshore wind was gusting up to about 40-50mph. Solid waist-chest+ with a rogue over head 1-2 wave set. SO CLEAN.
     It was empty when I showed up. One soul was looking at the break. It wasn't lining up so well due to tidal factors. This could only make you drive around out of curiosity. I checked a couple other spots and it looked worse. The wind was beating on the solid lines rolling onto various point breaks and sandbars. Not too impressed by the size or cleanliness presented by this swell I put hopes of riding my 6'11 to bed and focused more on my 5'6 LSD twinzer. That shape has proven itself time and time again in a variety of conditions.
     You can imagine it may have been a bit difficult to paddle into these waves. Timing and positioning were everything. Some waves seemed to drift right to you effortlessly holding back JUST enough for you to turn and go. Just 2 strokes and you felt the momentum of the wave pick you up. The wind would send beads of water off the back of the wave so violently that it was literally blinding on a few occasions. "It's like skiing through a snow gun" one surfer remarked. It wasn't exactly a warm paradise out there. In our own silent ways , however, we had found a piece of paradise in New England. Dark and stormy tubes all around. Empty waves up and down the beach and barely a handful of surfers in the water. On face turns were a challenge as was timing the perfectly etched barrel sections reeling through. All in  all I'd say Santa was a little late this year delivering surf but I'm not complaining. Surf on! JB

Strange Waves In Familiar Places

 SECRET SPOT IN MY OWN BACK YARD!

     Nothing is more exciting than finding a new spot. Nothing beats the feeling of discovery. Nothing beats living a mere 1/4 mile from the beach you surf at. Unfortunately I don't. I drive and drive and drive. Burn that petrol! It's only $3.06 / gal. It was a stormy Saturday afternoon. The surf reports were calling for building swell into the evening and peaking out in the morning. I kept a sharp eye on the cams and the wave heights. Nothing enticed me to shove $20 into my gas tank and put on 30lbs of wetsuit.

     I live in a small town with not much else to do but drive around play music and skate. So I got to driving around. Little did I know I should have had my boards and my suit with me. I have always had dreams of surfing my harbor town. I never fathomed it would actually work. I never imagined I would see what I saw.

     There it was! solid waist + high reeling along a man made pier. I was in shock as the sets kept increasing in size and consistency. Incoming tide was forcing lines to pile up perfectly along this stone wall. I watched in awe. I noted the conditions in case it would happen again. I had only seen this spot break during hurricane Bob and a few others. It never lined up like this however. The take off was sketch RIGHT next to the pier. Maybe a 20 yard section. I was satisfied just to watch it work. If I had gone home to grab my things it would have been dark by the time I returned to jump in. It looked like a great time for a long board. I still can't believe it. A bit choppy, not so clean, but RIDE ABLE! Next time.......

This Is Dedication

    An early morning alarm clock sounds. It seems all the rest of the world is fast asleep, all the rest but for a few dedicated souls. Darkness still casts its shadow over the land. Dawn is approaching quickly as is the time to arrive at work. All work and no play will only make matters worse. So you pry yourself from your warm bed. After all, it IS 28 degrees Fahrenheit and it COULD be colder. IT IS colder elsewhere. The water is a brisk 45.8 degrees and is dropping slightly every day. IT COULD BE COLDER. IT WILL BE COLDER. You arrive at an empty beach to find the first hues of pale greys slowly turn to hindered shades of the darkest most gloomy blues. The first signs of daylight. IT LOOKS COLD. Not too far off the beach you begin to notice white walls of water turning end over end. You notice it's lining up. You think it's head high. You won't know until more light finds its way to the horizon. You listen for the larger waves crashing like thunder on the reef. Excitement begins to gnaw at you much like the cold slowly eats away at your finger tips. You stand outside your warm vehicle trying to get an idea of what's going on 100 yards off shore. You've got nothing left to do but wait. Suit up. It's looking fun out there and you are all alone.  This is home. This is what you live for. This is what you love. This is what you need to survive, much like food and water. This is New England. We are a breed of our own. We have hypothermia breathing down our backs. We surf until we lose feeling in our feet and we'll do it all over again tomorrow. Eat Sleep Dream Live & Breathe Surf. JB