strategy session

I was arriving just as the dawn patrol was leaving. There was Doug, who was not only satiated from numerous rides but was dressed and go to go! An adventurer, he often surfs Salmon Creek and Dillon Beach, less sheltered locations than here at Bolinas. But today the place was pumpin, while Salmon Creek, I later heard from Jim, was at least double overhead with no one even out in the water. There was even some talk of a Mavericks Contest this weekend, only the very high tide level would have made for less than ideal conditions.



Though not quite an early bird as the one I stopped to photograph on my way, I was in the water by around 8:30; so I would surely get in on today’s swell. Destination.... The Patch. When the tide is this high, it is a schlep getting over there, which involves climbing along sea walls and rocks en route to avoid battering surf. Nonetheless I was soon enjoying waves, nature and friends. Being so focused on the beauty and power surrounding me, I lost track of the ever rising tide. Then I noticed the rides becoming bumpy due to the backwash. A glance toward the land brought the surprise of seeing a minimalist beach at the cliff base, being pounded by shore break.




It was now nearly 10:30 and dead high tide was at 11. Time to work my way in, though I was in a quandary about my exit strategy. I hoped for safety in numbers and was glad to see Mark heading toward shore. He’s an experienced water man and just the guy who seems to possess good judgment in all things.

“So what’s the plan, Mark?”

“Just go for it”, he answered.

There is a certain fallen tree that has long been embedded in the sand, the end of which has been carved like a big finial. I’ve heard it called the penis tree for its obvious shape. Well, that same tree was what dinged my old McTavish board; so it was once indeed a big prick to me. We decided to maneuver to our drop zone at a small remaining scrap of beach just by this protruding menace.

Meanwhile the shore break continued to jack up and tree limbs were even being tossed about in the mayhem. My trajectory was way off and I could see my impending demise with my old tree nemesis. So, I turned and paddled in retreat.

“What’s plan B?” I asked.

“We have no plan B”, Mark casually replied.

I liked his resolve and determination; so I followed his lead to safety just in time, luckily unscathed by flotsam and tree obstacles. Have I embellished my account for full blog effect? All I can say is that for a sketchy moment there, I did feel I was in the survival mode!