We paddled out right next to each other, talking about something. I popped under one wave in mid-sentence, looked back, and SurferBob was gone! Washed away... I didn't see him again for close to a half hour. Once Rincon has you in the grasp of the whitewater and current she doesn't let go easily.

Never did see Robert get a wave, but he later reported getting some fun ones in the cove. I visited there briefly, but the place was a funked-up mess with shifty up-and-down peaks. As I paddled back up the point in disgust, a set rumbled in to me, and I took it through the point, from between the cove and rivermouth to the fire pit. Heh heh...

Best waves I found were atop the indicator, strong walls that would fade away after rolling into the rivermouth. Worked on more visceral, harder cutbacks and snaps and paddled myself ragged against the incessant current atop the point, a whole uncaring ocean working ceaselessly to drive me southward. Eventually my arms ragged out and I began getting pitched on the drops. Last wave in was the drop that I finally landed. Immediate refueling ensued at Mi Fiesta, a little liquor store on the far west end of Carpinteria Avenue. Outstanding crispy al pastor burritos!