Santa Barbara Area Surf Reports

Location:		La Mesa
Weather:		Foggy and Cold, Almost Winterlike
Conditions:		Frothy and Dumpy
Swell:		5.2ft @ 10s @ 310°
Surf:		Thigh High

Comments:

The windswell from yesterday appeared to be on the buoys still but I had neither car nor board at work so I rode home through Hope Ranch and checked out the Mesa to see if it was breaking. Coming out of sunshine and into a windblown foggy day, there were indeed waves so I raced home for the Bear (K-dog) and board. Didn't get down there till 7:00, the fog was bringing on a pre-mature darkness. Only 2 or 3 guys in the water, and it felt cold with the wind on the springsuit.

Waves were chest high at times and dumping into a menagrie of sand and kelp. Duckdiving in the inside was like duckdiving into a bowl of pasta, you could not puncture through how much kelp was strewn on the inside, and when you popped up you had kelp tangled on every body part exposed. Waves gave almost nowhere to go, top to bottom closeouts that allowed for a fun drop, turn and explosion into a brown mess. My watch still smells like expelled kelp two days later.

Needless to say there wasn't a whole lot of hot surfing going on out there. It was a rare end of summer cold, cloudy, windy surf session with confused size. It was as if the beach did not no what to do with waves that big, so the sand and kelp was in a dis-array and the beach was not accepting waves that big. "Sorry, no deliveries of waves over waist high from June 1st-August 31st" it seemed to tell the windswell as it screeched to a halt and dumped in thigh high "water". Burro's at that new mexican place on Mission and De La Vina made up for a bizaro session.

Location:		Goleta Beachbreaks
Weather:		Sunny and quite warm
Conditions:		Clean with some high tide queasiness
Swell:		5.5ft @ 9s @ 315°
Surf:		Thigh High

Comments:

I haven't surfed in the Greater Santa Barbara area in over a month. In fact I even gave up on looking, instead taking solace in biking or running, both of which leave the arms in bad shape when the fall shapes up. However today while monitering the buoys I noticed the windswell keep building with a pretty good period for windswell, averaging somewhere around 10 seconds. I usually get bageled when I rush to my favorite beachbreak to catch windswell I see on buoys, but today I was right on. More than a dozen surfers out surfing thigh high waves that were indeed small yet surfable. Heck, a waist high set came in every now and then.

I had the shortboard and the springsuit, a combination that hasn't seen much daylight lately, but the water was much warmer than Sunday's Oxnard session, and I still managed to get enough waves with the shorty. Typical ripsters out, their 2nd day of school having been completed, and me wondering why I didn't come out at lunch when the rugrats were learning Chemistry.

My surfing was better than Oxnard, but still plenty of bogged turns. Getting covered was almost possible but coming off the lip did not have enough juice. Mix of longboarders and shortboarders with a insane amount of kids inside to avoid while you surfed into 12 inches of water. Finally back surfing the local beachbreak just minutes from work, sun is out, water is warm, and no navigation of traffic. Tranquilo.

Location:		Oxnard
Weather:		Onshore Winds
Conditions:		Size with Mush
Swell:		2.8ft @ 17s @ 200°
Surf:		Chest High Sets

Comments:

With gas nearing $3.00 a gallon you have to think twice about driving far for surf in the summer, but I needed some of this south. I didn't even check the close spots I usually do hoping that somehow they would light up, no I just bee-lined for Oxnard as if I surf there all the time, although that isn't true. It was already blown out but I was going out. South swell was in the water, with nice multi-wave sets with long lulls. Waves would march out of the south and jack up on the sandbar and warble down the beach.

Without a doubt this was my worst surfing performance in 3 years. I was in the springsuit and freezing my butt off in the wind, and on my shortboard that I'm still not used to again. I missed half of the waves I paddled for, and the ones I did catch I ate it within 5 seconds. I would not win a bullriding contest. Blown takeoff, blown bottom turn, monsters grabbing my ankles at every oportunity it was if I have never surfed before in my life. After every wipeout I'd look around for some invisible fishing line that perhaps was my problem. No such luck. I eventually blamed the shifty bumpy conditions and my equipment. Yeah.

...Continued From Day 4

Woke up and the swell had dropped even more. A few orange county guys had showed up on either side of us in the night, and three people were surfing before 10:00am. I almost went out to get wet put couldn't muster it. We headed north, towards the border unless we found something good. Started trying to find another point break we heard about, drove around in a lot of sands, went thru a drive river bottom and found a locked gate. Went inland to get around it and ended up on this huge bluff.

Finally made it to the ocean and I was navigating and realzed we were not where I thought we were. Turned on the GPS for the first time on the trip. We were at 386 feet up on a bluff that we had no idea how to get to the ocean. We navigated our way north and hit the M1 before we hit the turnoff I was looking for to a rivermouth we thought about checking out. After that it was shoot towards the border, we stopped to check out K58 on the way up, it was blown out and small. The BorderX was about one hour and I was back in the US 24 hours ahead of schedule.

An uneventfull drive home and I was in SB by 10:00, and much of Saturday was cleaning Mexican Dust off of every square inch of equipment I brought down there. The Horseshoe Trip was a success, at the cost of 3 vacation days. Had we not left early the story would have been entirely different. We have a list of places we want to check out for the next Horseshoe Trip.

...Continued From Day 3

Woke up and the swell had died considerably. Waited for the tide to fill in and then hit it. After surfing 4 sessions in 2 days that were in excellent surf, it was tough to motivate in waist high, howling offshore, shifty waves. We made the best of it but it was an unremarkable session. Had some fun turns and was improving my surfing but after 48 hours of wind it was obvious we needed a change of scenery. Since it was Friday a lot of people were showing up hoping to catch the last of the swell. Mank pulled a lot of "You should of been here Wednesday's", while surf starved guys still suited up and went out anyway, declaring they got it good in there hometown on Wednesday.

Packed up camp and had a much needed meal in Santo Tomas before heading south. Stopped for ice to see that our cooler was a swimming mess of milk and vegetables. Found our next dirt road without incident and checked out Richard's Camp. A nice point/reef with potential but the swell was even smaller here. Continued driving along the coast about 20 miles south to two other points, one of which I went to about 13 years ago on my first baja trip. Back then there was just a sunken boat offshore, but now there were dozens of houses and a barbed wired in campground. Not as apealing as I remember. No waves there or at the other point which featured a gringo drifter who in the span of five minutes wanted a ride to town, a ding repair kit, and to smoke a joint with us. We declined all three and headed back to Richard's Camp.

We surfed around sunset with about a dozen people, all from some Dana Point bachelor party. There group felt like a cult and communication was difficult. The wind was mostly calm and the sunset and subsequent (full) moon rise was glorious. I got a ding on my board from an unknown incident. Waves were thigh high and breaking nearly on shore. The trip was petering out, we had two more days, but with no more waves it was anybody's guess how we would occupy our time tommorrow.

Continued on Day 5...

...Continued From Day 2

Woke up early again but the tide wasn't right so we waited for it to fill in. Had some eggs and beans and burritos and fueled up. Headed out after that and the swell was still nice, it hadn't dropped that much overnight. Chest to head high with some overhead sets every now and then. Started up at the main peak but after watching the barrell fest last night at the box I really had to get down there. The main peak wasn't crowded much though so I vowed to stay there until I wasn't getting as many waves. Got quite a few at first, a fun left off the bat was a good way to start.

Then the it got a little more crowded so I went to the box with Mank and there was a half a dozen guys out. Our addition to the lineup did not go unnoticed and we caused a 20 minute lull. I caught a few small inside waves thinking that was all that was to be had. Got a mini-cover up and had some great turns. Mank then left cause it wasn't working and after that one of the bigger sets I'd seen came in. The first guys in the lineup took off on the first few waves, about head high, but then behind those two waves was some well overhead waves that were cracking way outside. I got stuck inside from chasing the first waves of the set and took a beating. There was a mini-lull and then a few more. I paddled for two of them but got denied from wind from dropping in. My cred as an a clutch wave getter was removed from the lineup. After that I took chest high scraps on the shoulder, and got a really nice cover up on the inside reef on one of them. Then there were only 4 of us and another lull. A few small ones then it got crowded again, my arms were falling off and Mank was walking back so I headed in.

Lunch with beer, a short nap, a game of horseshoes, and then we contemplated exploring elsewhere. The wind in this spot picks up around 10 or 12 and goes until sunset. It's offshore, which is good, but it drives you crazy when you aren't surfing. Not a very relaxing rest in between sessions. We opted to instead explore the low tide and buy some langosta from the local fishermen and amp up for the evening session. By this time most everyone was taking off, so we moved campsites to one that was more sheltered.

We headed out again around 5:00 or so. Only 4 guys out, 2 gringos and 2 mexicanos, we surfed the main peak that was shifty. The gringos left, and soon after that so did the mexicanos, so it was just us. My shoulders and elbows screamed for mercy, but it was just us in head high surf with blowing offshores as the sun was setting so I had to stay out. Was getting some real fun rights, the lefts were closing out on me. Tried to tuck in a few times, and made my biggest turns of the trip. The wind and the setting sun made for a cold session for me at least. Getting caught inside was not good news, my arms were so sore I couldn't get enough power to duck dive very deep and was getting swept in. So I headed in to get camp ready for dinner while Justin and his more in shape arms stayed out a little longer.

Back at camp we had the lobsters along with beer and a nice fire as the wind died down and Mank fell asleep in his camp chair for the 2nd night in a row.

Continued on Day 4...

...Continued From Day 1

Wednesday in the pre-dawn hours I kept peaking my head out the tent to look at the waves. It was tough to tell how big they were and no one was stirring in camp so I kept catching more Z's. I finally woke just before dawn and the lineup was empty. We had no food with us so I looked for milk at the store, it was closed, so I roused Mank to head out. He got up and by then the first guy was in the water. By the time we were down to the beach, there were a dozen guys out over a few peaks.

We hiked south along the beach because it was peeling off way better down there. Once on the beach we could see there was size. And shape. Nice peeling lefts that were fast a pithing out. Every so often one would spit out some spray. Windless and foggy. The paddle out wasn't bad and were soon hanging out at our own peak, trading lefts. Would take a few chest to shoulder high ones in between the sets that were fun to the maximum. The sets were a bit overhead and often were unmakeable. That didn't stop us though, it had been so long since there was size we'd often take off impossible waves just for the rush.

Mank had two waves burnt into my mind. The first was a smaller inside wave, chest high or so where he was all setup for a nice barrell ride, I was paddeling out over the shoulder and he was heading towards me... it was a cover shot. Then right has he's about to be covered up, somethign out of nowhere grabbed his ankles and made him wipe out. So close. The next was an outside wave he caught, overhead and zero chance of going anywhere. He took off late in what was once again a perfect magazine cover shot. I was paddeling over the wave as he was doing this air drop and then I turned around to see the thing detonate. He came up somewhere down the line with a giant smile.

I managed to sneak a few fun rights in between the lefts. My rights were smaller and slower, but slow enough that I could actually turn on them. The lefts were so fast, I was haning onto the rail on a backside drop in and then maybe coming up towards the lip if I made the first section. My surfing was not very good. First time on the shortboard since May 1st, I had only surfed the Fish and longboard since then. That and I hadn't surfed at all in August and I was one bad surfer.

The lineup got crowded. It felt like back home, with maybe 100 guys out over the whole stretch of beach, about 1/2 mile of peaks maybe. A big set came in, the biggest of the morning. Mank and I got back to back waves and paddeled back out, and then the little peak we owned saw a dozen guys paddle out to it. Said one grom, "I saw that set come in 20 minutes ago here and it looked good." I convinced him that was a freak, the "real" good waves were further down the coast, and we were in a "no mans land" right here. Mank picked up on this and showed the Grom where the good peak was. He believed us and paddled away, our PsyOps working to perfection. It's a cruel, cruel world. We surfed until our arms fell off and the made it back to camp, packed up, and had beer and ChiliQuilles at the local restraunt. Food never tasted so good.

We headed south and stopped for groceries at a mercado south of ensenada. Mank was a pro at navigating our way to our next chosen stop which included nearly an hour of bone jarring dirt roads. I called this place "Victors's" named after the man who has run the show here for 25 years. We pulled up and it was obvious the waves were good. We decided to let the tide "fill in" so we setup camp and rested for our afternoon session. We headed out around 4 or 5. There were 3 peaks working, the point, the main peak, and the box. The point looked big and gnarly, breaking near a lot jagged rocks. We only saw 1 or 2 guys surf there the whole trip. Most of the people were at the main peak where you could go right or left. The box had a hardcore crew who policed it like any tight takeoff spot gets policed back home, it felt a bit like surfing the spit with the tight pack and fast takeoff. I only surfed the main peak this first session, while Mank sampled both.

The wind was heavy offshore, making for wild and blind takeoffs. Many times I got denied entry, rubbing water out of my eyes. Many other times I'd make it in and race down the line. My surfing was still pretty cruddy, many had this place wired already and I hadn't surfed good surf in 3 months. I did have some really fun waves, great drops and attempts at getting covered up, but my turns were stalled and I don't think I ever hit the lip this session. Pretty meager performance. The vibe was pretty good out there, but there were guys who would constantly back-paddle the lineup, which got old. The peak was shifty so sometimes the best place to sit was to the left of the lineup and even with it. Those sets were great, I got one of them all the way to the box, but they were less frequent. I once again surfed until my arms fell off.

Dinner and beer on the cliff watching 3-4 guys own the box below us while the sun set. Drop in, adjust, stall, get covered up, make it out, then make a giant cutback. These guys were doing laps but I only had enough energy to move my eyeballs. Went to sleep shorty after sunset.

Continued on Day 3...

The Horseshoe Trip was the working codename for a a 4 day trip to Baja with Mank. Out of all our summer weekends only August 20th worked out for both of us and we inked it on the calendar sometime in late June. July and early August was all but flat, and as our weekend got closer we were surf starved and it looked like we'd get bageled in Baja. Then the forecast sites followed a low that broke off of Chile on August 9th. Seas were 29ft for about 36 hours and it was supposed to send waves to us on Wednesday, August 17th. These would be the first real waves to hit SoCal in 1-2 months. We followed this swell and as it got closer we realized we would get down to Baja as the swell was going away. We then decided to take 3 days off of work and head down Tuesday night and try to get the peak of the swell on Wednesday.

So on Tuesday at 6:00pm I headed out from work in Goleta and navigated thru traffic in LA and Orange County and made it to Mank's around 10:00pm in San Diego. We packed up, got some gas then stopped at Bryan's for a pint of beer out of his kegerator he built in his garage. He loaned us a lobster pot too. We then went across San Ysidro and were in Baja. We got to K58/La Fonda after midnnight, and it was crowded camping for a Tuesday night. Setup my tent and crashed out.

Continued on to Day 2...