Hot Damn! Finally some surf worth talking about! Last night was a standard 30 min. "Just To Get Wet" deal, so let's move on to this morning's revelry, shall we?

The scene: 101 Southbound, just past the Sheffield exit: Obligatory glance to starboard and stern reveals clean, glassy conditions and definite sign of swell pushing through. Loud hooting pervaded the cab of Troque Amarillo, and the pedal was duly mashed further through the sheetmetal flooring in hopes of finding some waves coming through at the Little Corner just a ways on down the road.

Sure enough, upon examination of the point from the bottom of the trail, a glassy, nearly empty (only 6 guys out in the cove, pretty good for how late I was--6:35am) lineup awaited, with no wind, some fog/overcast hanging offshore, and dead glass conditions. It was breaking sorta slow and with a few sections, but it looked the veritable definition of "longboard heaven" to me! Spinning on my besandled foot, I raced back up the trail for my board.

Today was also slated to be a day of experimentation; El Negrito, a fellow member of Team Rider, had lent me a new fin to try out and I was eager to see what the results would be. This fin must be seen to be believed; at about 12.5" deep, it was by far and away the largest I'd ever bolted into my board. The shape resembles the machete-like combat knives used by the Indian Ghurka forces during WWII: A broad base which hooks out into an enormous bulbed tip, with the result being something of a cut-away in the middle part of the fin. This ungodly black beast sort of looks like a Da Cat fin, but is at least 30% larger and more extreme. It was so big and heavy, I could notice the difference in board weight immediately as I carried my board down the trail.

Kneepaddling out into the lineup, I was careful not to bash the borrowed fin on any of the cobblestones lining the bottom. Before I could even reach the normal cove waiting room, a super clean and walled up line began approaching me, riderless. I spun and double-arm stroked into the wave, arching my bottom turn and setting up for a noseride. The fin came off the bottom well, but was so stiff and huge that it didn't have the projection down the line I was used to.

No matter; the wave had lined up in front of me perfectly, and the enormous drag created by the fin was actually holding me in ideal position, at least for what I had in mind. Four quick steps to the nose, and five was achieved with an uncommon ease; ten quickly followed, and then everything froze. The gigantic fin, as a result of whatever godforsaken turbulence and drag it created, was cooperating with the concave under the nose of my board, and together the two conspired to hang me out to dry on the tip.

After a few long seconds on the wonderful magic carpet ride, I tired of the game; I had more testing to do. Time to see if this beast of a fin could cut back or not. Four steps back, drop the knee, sink the stern and "Come hard to port!" It turned! Fabulous! Got another five across the sandbar inside, and then it was time to do it all over again. And again, and again, and again.

Nearly two hours later, I forced myself to ride the soup in on my knees, after another great ride through the cove. The word was out, the crowd had picked up, and the surf wasn't quite as good. It was time to go to work, and to tell the tale of one of my most enjoyable sessions ever at The Little Corner By The Sea. I'm definitely going to get one of those fins for my quiver.

Steve Lange