Hurricane Hunter Sept 10
Sunday was a pretty lazy day. I checked out the surf in the morning, and it definitely looked bigger but it was breaking right on the beach because the tide was peaking. I drove over to the local surf shop and found out that high tide was at 3 p.m. so I bided time at the pool until about 2. By then the tide was most of the way out and the waves were breaking on the second sand bar.
The sand bars here are pretty shallow. On Saturday, when the waves were pretty small, the depth between the first and second sandbar went to at least a foot overhead. But when you reached the next sandbar, you were standing in only 3 and ½ feet of water. Now, as I walked down the beach a little to where the waves were peeling off, I could see two other guys were already out.
I paddled out and discovered consistent shoulder high crunchers that let you drop in and ride along for an average of about 6 or 7 seconds before they closed out and deposited you onto that second sand bar I was talking about. So after the first bounce, I decided to kick out before they got me, unless, of course, it looked like I might get covered up (get inside the tube). But I never did get covered up without it being the end of the ride (wipeout).
Oh well, all in all, it was pretty good. The wind was offshore; the water and air was 80 degrees; the ocean was blue; and there was all kinds of wildlife around. Fish were jumping out of the water, and pelicans were air-surfing the swells, and coming within 10 feet of me. I even saw a big fin cruise out the water just outside the break. I paddled over to Matt (one of the other two surfers), and asked him if he could confirm it was a porpoise. He said he didn’t see it, and he started staring to where I had pointed it out to him. Anyway, he and his friend stayed only another 20 minutes, then surfed on in. After being out for an hour and a half, I, too, was tired, so I followed suit. Plus, it’s kind of a funny feeling surfing by yourself in unknown waters when there’s so much sea life around you.
In the evening, the surf was a little blown out with the strong offshore wind so I drove down the island with my board checking out all the piers but I wasn’t impressed enough to go back out. Besides, Monday is when it’s supposed to get big.
THE PIER LIFE
One thing I like about places like this are the piers and their little communities of fisher folk.
It’s great to walk out on the pier at night, and look at all the different people who take their fishing seriously and not so seriously (but more about Deborah and Linda later). Also, you can watch the translucent green swells roll in under the pier, all lit up from the huge pier lights. And you can look way down the beaches on both sides and see house lights and lighthouses.
Saturday night, I was at the end of the pier talking to a surfer/fisherman about the upcoming swell, and a guy nearby caught a 3 foot sand shark. Of course, I didn’t have my camera that night. Also, that night, someone caught a small stingray. On Sunday night, there were some kids surfing in the lights of the pier. We used to do that at Surfside, Texas, once upon a time.
So Sunday night, I took pictures of some of the people there.
Deborah was hard at work (not really), so I asked her why she was out there fishing. I don’t remember her answer, but she did say that she would eat the fish (if she ever caught one). Linda was more creative with her answer. She said something about playing with the fish for a while, then maybe knitting it a wool cap before she let it go. Both the ladies are from Asheville, NC, and they come down for a week and rent a house. I don’t blame them. I think I’ll do the same next time.
Linda caught a fish while I was there but the only thing Deborah caught was a crab, and I almost got a picture of it but the stupid thing let go at the last minute. Please, no comments about Deborah or Linda or the crab.
I told them about Otis and the trailer park, and Linda asked me not to say they live in the trailer park. They don’t. (They’re going to check out my blog and make sure I don’t say anything bad about them.) Deborah is a professional piano player. She plays jazz and easy listening in the Asheville area. I told her that becoming a piano player in a lounge is a goal of mine.
So I guess that’s it for now. I’m going to check out the surf Monday morning, and, if it’s not good, I’m going to head for Ocean Beach, Maryland, where there should be a good swell from that coward, Florence. I’m on her trail.
Hey Oprah, are you listening? Thanks for the comments, mom.
The sand bars here are pretty shallow. On Saturday, when the waves were pretty small, the depth between the first and second sandbar went to at least a foot overhead. But when you reached the next sandbar, you were standing in only 3 and ½ feet of water. Now, as I walked down the beach a little to where the waves were peeling off, I could see two other guys were already out.
I paddled out and discovered consistent shoulder high crunchers that let you drop in and ride along for an average of about 6 or 7 seconds before they closed out and deposited you onto that second sand bar I was talking about. So after the first bounce, I decided to kick out before they got me, unless, of course, it looked like I might get covered up (get inside the tube). But I never did get covered up without it being the end of the ride (wipeout).
Oh well, all in all, it was pretty good. The wind was offshore; the water and air was 80 degrees; the ocean was blue; and there was all kinds of wildlife around. Fish were jumping out of the water, and pelicans were air-surfing the swells, and coming within 10 feet of me. I even saw a big fin cruise out the water just outside the break. I paddled over to Matt (one of the other two surfers), and asked him if he could confirm it was a porpoise. He said he didn’t see it, and he started staring to where I had pointed it out to him. Anyway, he and his friend stayed only another 20 minutes, then surfed on in. After being out for an hour and a half, I, too, was tired, so I followed suit. Plus, it’s kind of a funny feeling surfing by yourself in unknown waters when there’s so much sea life around you.
In the evening, the surf was a little blown out with the strong offshore wind so I drove down the island with my board checking out all the piers but I wasn’t impressed enough to go back out. Besides, Monday is when it’s supposed to get big.
THE PIER LIFE
One thing I like about places like this are the piers and their little communities of fisher folk.
It’s great to walk out on the pier at night, and look at all the different people who take their fishing seriously and not so seriously (but more about Deborah and Linda later). Also, you can watch the translucent green swells roll in under the pier, all lit up from the huge pier lights. And you can look way down the beaches on both sides and see house lights and lighthouses.
Saturday night, I was at the end of the pier talking to a surfer/fisherman about the upcoming swell, and a guy nearby caught a 3 foot sand shark. Of course, I didn’t have my camera that night. Also, that night, someone caught a small stingray. On Sunday night, there were some kids surfing in the lights of the pier. We used to do that at Surfside, Texas, once upon a time.
So Sunday night, I took pictures of some of the people there.
Deborah was hard at work (not really), so I asked her why she was out there fishing. I don’t remember her answer, but she did say that she would eat the fish (if she ever caught one). Linda was more creative with her answer. She said something about playing with the fish for a while, then maybe knitting it a wool cap before she let it go. Both the ladies are from Asheville, NC, and they come down for a week and rent a house. I don’t blame them. I think I’ll do the same next time.
Linda caught a fish while I was there but the only thing Deborah caught was a crab, and I almost got a picture of it but the stupid thing let go at the last minute. Please, no comments about Deborah or Linda or the crab.
I told them about Otis and the trailer park, and Linda asked me not to say they live in the trailer park. They don’t. (They’re going to check out my blog and make sure I don’t say anything bad about them.) Deborah is a professional piano player. She plays jazz and easy listening in the Asheville area. I told her that becoming a piano player in a lounge is a goal of mine.
So I guess that’s it for now. I’m going to check out the surf Monday morning, and, if it’s not good, I’m going to head for Ocean Beach, Maryland, where there should be a good swell from that coward, Florence. I’m on her trail.
Hey Oprah, are you listening? Thanks for the comments, mom.
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