The Float

Don’t even try to fight it.

If it aint walled, it’s probably gonna look like this.

Where I live any significant south swell features ripping north to south current. Familiar? It’s the kind that entertains the lot lizards for hours on end, giving them ample reason to keep sipping that never ending coffee and partake in their favorite pastime: not paddling out. It’s also a rare opportunity to surf alone.

I used to go to great lengths to find a sneaky corner somewhere, “some structure” as the forecasters say — and those spots were out there again this weekend — but various issues prevented that hunt and I needed some alone time anyway. So I opted for a new strategy during these swell events that’s great for surfing alone: I call it The Float.

The crowd of dudes on the cliff animating rides from long lost south swells was all the evidence I needed to know that there was no one out and the forecast was as predicted: solid, walled and the current was ripping.

The first thing I did was free myself of the burden that comes with expecting to surf well or get good waves. I was not looking to get a cam rewind. I wasn’t going to get barrelled and I may not even find a corner. I did some mental exercises and lowered expectations to those of a kayaker. A dog walker. Or a perch fisherman. I’m just happy to be here!

I entered a transcendental state of mind and started trudging south. At first trotting, then slowing to a brisk walk — mixing in among the hordes out enjoying the last gasps of “local summer.” I had no phone. No e-bike. No Apple watch. No Oura Ring. I was the happiest man alive.

Maybe I’d experience some sort of enlightenment for my troubles. At the very least I’d get reacquainted with the fundamentals of duck diving and likely experience severe chafing from this swampy walk in too much neoprene. So I’m definitely feeling something.