There's not many real surfers these days. There's lot's of people who surf or ride waves one way or another, but a real surfer does it for food. There's even some closet veggie surfers, you know, with secret plots of soy-C and never a gull on their spike. Urban farmers, may as well be envi's."Fuck off," I say.But anyway, like I was saying, I'm pretty successful at scoring food off riding, it's the Ohlone blood in me. I have a natural affinity for subsistence living that most modern age pagans are simply lacking. I think the difference is that I don't consider myself superior to the animals I eat. I never will. I'm too much part of the same food chain I guess.Can you tell I just burnt a fat one?There was another attack today. Further north this time. There was a punchy windswell hitting, and with a high parked over us it was glassy and hot all day. Apparently there was a run at the creek mouth which attracted a flock of gulls and cormorants and surfers of course. Same deal, surfer tagged and airlifted out despite a working repeller.This time Junk called me to ask what I knew. All I know is a lot of posers are staying out of the water. I wasn't there this time, but word gets around fast. Not too fast in my case because I still don't own a vooder-phone. I just don't like owning stuff I really don't need, and it's not like I have a lot friends trying to reach me anyway. JoJo has a vooder so I'll use hers if I have to , but I could tell Junk was a little chapped about having to work so hard to get a hold of me.
Anyway, I told him about my island trip and he got real excited. He said the island Authority counts on surfers' repellers signals to alert them. If I'd had my repeller with me, it's 99% sure I'd be a hundred pieces at an Authority chop shop by now.
Weird stuff. I hope this windswell lasts.
Writing and all photographs by Leonardo Dagum,
dagum@sgi.com.
Copyright (C) November 5th, 1993. All rights reserved.