Surfing Sunday

            This weekend, I went back home to wonderful Ocracoke Island, my dear home. I’ve come to miss it more and more because it is so relaxing and peaceful there. Every morning, I can go to the Flying Melon Café and get the dankest food. This stuff is good. I often eat a lot of food from there when I’m home because it’s easily accessible, I can ask for special orders, and I usually don’t have to pay. The flow of my day seems much more organic and matters seem a little less important at the moment. The same goes for my nights. I can walk to all my friends’ houses in five minutes and people just take things easy. The thing I miss most of all is surfing. Whether the waves are good or not, I don’t care. I’m always ready to hit the water and have some fun.

            Surfing this Fall Break wasn’t anything special at first. On Thursday morning, I caught some waist high peelers on my six foot superfish. Every so often, there was a chest high-or-so wave that would break far out and would give me a really long ride. While the waves weren’t especially powerful, the nice shape and substantial robustness of my surfboard gave me the speed I needed.

            Then, because of unfortunate, unavoidable circumstances, I was forced to stay for Sunday. The waves had been basically flat since Thursday and I didn’t expect much increase. I was in for a surprise. Because of an extended sporting tournament into the late hours of Saturday night, I stayed in bed until late. When I arose from my slumber and called my buddy Tristan, I realized it was on. The north end of the island was handling the extreme northern angle of the swell pretty well. The sometimes-bad northeastern wind was offshore. For those that don’t understand what I’m saying, the elements had come together to make good conditions. The waves were sick! A couple hours later, I pulled up and observed the lineup. While the air was cold, the wind was colder, and the water was deep brown with stirred up sediment, the waves formed into very long lines. I still had my superfish by my side because I knew it would serve me well, even if it wasn’t my best board. On Thursday, I had surfed in shorts and felt great. Come Sunday, the water forced me into a wetsuit. I hit the water and after a little uncomfortable paddling and diving, I made it into the lineup. I caught some waves, but none were like my last one.

I was surfing by myself in an area with plenty of shark sightings so I had a bad vibe. I saw a bomb coming and I thought I might have to paddle over it. But because of the strong wind blowing at the wave, the lip held. I took off at a critical spot. The wave peaked and threw a mighty lip forward just a moment after I took off. After an extreme air drop into the pocket, I braced myself in the perfect spot. The wave was perfect and I got barreled for seconds in the meanest pit I had surfed in a long time. I could see the sand being sucked up from under me and over my head. As soon as I came out of it, I was so pumped that I was shaking for like seven minutes. Anyway it was a lot of fun.