wb surf

my life in wrightsville beach, starting today

the view from . . .
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my deck, one last time:


it fits
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The day: cold and dreary; drizzling, north wind; desolate.  And I'm packing up; tomorrow; outta here.


jump!
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arc
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this could be the last time
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Time flies.  Pamella was here (for the last time) two weeks ago. 


We hung out (checked the boat/dog/duck/bird/boat/swimmer/etc. action in the channel), watched BSG, looked at properties (the $5 million house was really nice -- it's only been on the market for three  . . . years -- as have lots of properties here)  and made our plans for when we're back in Atlanta.  She also documented the christening (waxing) of the balsa board.  Two days before she got here a messy northeaster blew through; it smoothed out the next day for a clean, sunny, waist-to-chest, 2-hour afternoon go-out. 

Mehmet came over the following Wednesday to ride the board he'd bought a month ago. 


We had good, easy to learn on waves for a couple of days, then a northerly washing-machine day, then board snapping go-out at Mase. In between we watched several surf vids, took the rasta board to Greg Eavey's to get the fin re-glassed, talked architecture -- especially what might be done with the property I'm in now, and visited a Wilmington fire station to check out their huge glass and metal garage doors.  We figured they would be cool end "walls" on the third story of the house we visualized on this property.   We ate at Casey's Buffet (barbeque, overcooked veggies, wings, white bread . . . everything that is bad for you but tastes good) for the first time; I had my last meal at Port Land Grille with him.

Cissie and Tyson came over for dinner Sunday.  I'd surfed with them most days this summer (Cissie only missed two days) and it was about time to get together over something besides surfing.  Tuna on the grill, broccoli, mashed potatoes, and, well, yeah, surf vids filled the evening.

I had my "last supper" at the Oceanic Tuesday; my last at Jerry's last night.  Also took (probably) my last late night kayak paddle; the tide was dead, there was no wind, a single flounder gigger out, strange bird cries from the marshes, drifting and dreaming and other-worldly and sad knowing I won't do this again for a while.

if only
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Madame President:  They say it's good.
Admiral Adama:  It IS good.   It grows in the mountains north of here.

 

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the next to the next to the last . . .
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child is father to the man
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First board, 7'10" C-C Minipin, 1968, Garden City Beach, SC.


Latest addition: 9'4", Ian Balding Custom, 2009.


The C-C Minipin, a smaller version of this.


mase
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Low tide, barrel city, waist- to stand-up-tubes, super-crowded (125 people out by 8 a.m.), lots of close-outs = crucial.
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wind . . .
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has switched from SE to NW (offshore), and the swell is still waist- to chest: off to Mase with Cissie, Tyson and Mehmet.  I'll ride the Bing.


yikes!
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I really must be moving:  I just changed my Netflix mailing address back to 160 Barksdale.
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this morning
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Anywhere from knee- to chest-high, sloppy, southerly onshores; supposed to improve by tomorrow.

swan
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westbound . . .
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in a week.
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h2o
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glide
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new day
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first quarter . . . almost
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arc
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arc
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arc
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longboard
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9' 4".  18 3/4 x 24 x 14 1/2.

It began at the end of May; it was ready the last week of September, the day before I left for the northeast.  It's beautiful, I hated to put wax on it.  Ian, the craftsman/shaper, went above-and-beyond the call:  entertaining/implementing my impossible-to-execute ideas (the U-shaped piece that frames/sets off the sun in the tailblock) and contributing (non-crazy/tempering) ideas of his own.  It was a pleasure; it was fun.  Greg Eavey then made it shine with his flawless glass job.

Been out twice: Saturday and Monday.  Monday was the end of the NE/E swell that had been coming in since Wednesday.  The knee-to-waist waves were crisp and hollow and close-out-y at low tide, mellower as the tide came in.  I'm still getting it dialed-in: sometimes it's a log, other times floaty and responsive. 

One wave: wind offshore, waist-high right, peeling, I'm barrelled, arm-drag, stay tucked, somebody watches and hoots: a few seconds . . . then it's over. 

   
Ian; his handiwork.













   

arc
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out surfing . . .
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the other day and saw a  freaking armada of 39 pelicans fly overhead in V formation.  Most I've ever seen.
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141st day of hurricane season
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The wind has been blowing strong and steady from the W / NW for five days.  Swell yesterday was straight from the east, wind straight from the west.  Unless you caught the shoulder of the 100 foot close-out there was nowhere to go.

hey holmes . . .
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It's something to shoot for:

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anti-depressant
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There's nothing like some good waves to help deal with the depression.  And it really snaps you out of it when you're about to get drilled:


my face, week 21
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sweet
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because I can:
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