The guys get jittery around here at the start of a big swell. You'll see them at the bluff at dawn, binoculars trained on the half-dozen breaks between here at Point Dume, hear the scritchy sound of boards being waxed, smell the briney sweetness as the sea starts to move.
Thereís no keeping surf secrets any more, and within hours, strangers with surfboards will start to show up. Our little break here in the Cove is just that, a little break. Small takeoff spot, not much room for big egos, though thatís yet to stop anyone. The regulars get there early, do that quick-trot down the beach, swiftly paddle out. The new guys wander by in pairs and trios, try to blend in. And then it's all about the rhythm of the ride. And staying warm.
Hereís the sea today, sleek and steely and cold, spitting out sets like a Tommy gun.