If you know, you know. Photo: John Withers
For multiple reasons – weather, beach closures, injuries, never-ending car troubles, and more – I’ve been surfing the same spot for six months, no exceptions. I’ll admit, part of me thought the repetition could prove interesting, since I’ve always tried to mix up my surf spots for variety, or conditions, or what board I wanted to ride.
There are drawbacks to this steady diet. But here are the advantages of paddling out at the same spot every single time.
There’s No Waiting Around
While I might check the cam in the morning to figure out which board to bring, there’s no lounging around the lot, no lurking on the stairs and no driving around to scope different spots that might be working better. I’m parked and suited up in a few minutes, and as I trot down, I often notice how many surfers are stranded in their street clothes, mired in hesitation. Yesterday, for example, a group of guys stood in the cool morning air, debating. One decided it wasn’t up to par, the other grumbled about nothing being perfect; they got in their trucks and split. I jogged down the steps and had a fun session that may have ended by the time they found the perfect a-frame up the coast.
With this approach, there’s no time wasted. However, it also means that what you see is what you get. I’m sure I’ve missed stand-out sessions at other breaks because of my tunnel vision. But thanks to the ocean being in a constant state of fluctuation, I’d lay money down that I’ve scored some surprisingly good sessions, too.
You Understand the Wave Better
When I say the same spot, I mean the same parking lot (if I’m lucky), and the same main break. But as is the case with many spots, a gray area exists in the break’s nearby vicinity, with undiscovered pastures in which to graze, dependent on the way the tide and swell hits the rocky reef.
Over the last half-year, I’ve gotten to experience the spot when it’s high, low, and mid-tide, with a variety of other factors thrown in: wind direction, wave height, swell direction – peak, shoulder, inside and more. I’m not going to share specifics, but within this stretch of shore, I now know where to go when the usually crowded main break isn’t working because there’s too much water, or if I have the time and want less crowd. I know what rocky shelf works well for stashing flip flops, and where they’ll get washed away (RIP, last year’s Reefs).
More specifically, I know how the wave sections at certain spots, and where the inside pitches into a fun, fast shorebreak. I know where to paddle out on days with size and where to surf during a king high tide when there’s only one spot the wave’ll break. Last year, when I switched up surf spots (like going from Fortnite to Rainbow Six), I didn’t have the knowledge base.
You Recognize the Regulars
I’m not having a BBQ and inviting the dawn patrol lineup over, but I now recognize a good number of local characters, from the old guard of the Gentleman’s Hour to the young rippers of the Dawn Patrol, to the afternoon learners bobbing in the sunny chop.
The cliental isn’t always constant, but the break’s regulars are quick to offer a smile, feedback on what the wind is doing, or of course, let me know “how good it was an hour ago.” In any case, since I’ve gone from having a hearty group of East Coast shredders to rip with to paddling out alone, it’s nice to see a few friendly faces when you need a recommendation, wax, or even a jump start for your crappy car – thanks Bud.
The Details – and Hazards – Stand Out
As my injury has lessened, I’ve been able to jog a bit, and one of my favorite things is that morning jog to my spot – dawn breaking, birds swinging in, waves crashing. I’ve watched spring come, replacing the colder months, and bringing soaring sandpipers, a shoreline full of snails (I don’t recommend grilling up Wavy Turban snails, but it wasn’t terrible, and I didn’t die), and a lot of other wildlife.
The experience reminds me a bit of those reels where the person films a woodsy path or a garden for a year on a time lapse: all of the slow-moving changes become palpable, from erosion and newly exposed rocks to newly born dolphins flipping through the breakers.
Lastly, I learned quickly when and where on the beach you need flip flops at high tide to avoid sore feet and wincing as you head out to the surf. Just don’t lose your flip-flops.
You Create Landmarks
As the shoreline changes due to powerful tides and erosion, and better yet, as the weather fluctuates and the currents pull at us, we need landmarks. In my head, I refer to one of the big, ornate houses on the cliffs above the beach as Space House. I’m not sure anyone else would agree that the house resembles a spaceship, but it doesn’t matter how or why it popped into my head. I have a detailed map in my mind of where to sit to get waves, depending on the tide, simply utilizing the landmark Space House provides.
Other landmarks occupy space in my brain, too, and their locations and significance was learned by trial and error and experimentation. For example, there’s a good chance of hollow waves in front of X rock if the offshores are cranking and the tide is low enough to bounce off that section of reef.
In short, I find that every day I trot down to the beach, board in hand, I notice something new: a stack of driftwood, new graffiti, a bird’s nest, and this makes me both more aware and more mindful. I’m more rookie than veteran in this hood, but after six months, I know this stretch of shore on a more intimate level, and I’ll never look at it the same…even when I start surfing somewhere else.
