Surfing Douglas
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Wednesday night. I wake to huge crashers, rumbling me from my sleep. Incoming swell. Nice. I wake Thursday morning to no sounds of crashing waves, silence, odd. Prepare my morning coffee and right to work. 11am, my sister Beth calls me up and says that there are three meter waves and Tzahui Poo wants to meet up at “Holi” to take some photos. Holiday Inn (or Holi, for short) breaks far inside the bay towards Vallarta and this spot is usually reserved for when the size of a swell is so large that the outer bay spots all crap out from heavy currents and un-groomed waves.
I grab the camera and the board and I’m ghost. 20 minutes later, almost there, I get a call from Beth saying that Holi is starting to crap out from the wind, Tzahui is heading for “Velas” (or as I’m calling it “Portofino”, as there’s actually two different breaks at this spot). Portofino is the breaker of boards, a wicked dumping, open barrel, shore break. The higher the tide, the closer to shore, the deadlier the barrel. 80% of all rides end in closed out revolcadas, washing machine-like whirling dervishes of pressure, water, foam and sand. and you’re the clothing. Double overhead? No way. As my primary directive is to surf, I head back up to the north bay where I hear Birri and Ro are at Veneros. I make a u-turn.
30 Minutes later, from the cliff above Destiladeras, standing on the roof of my truck with binoculars (8×65), I can see the entire north bay looks like the north shore of Hawaii. Overhead and double overhead everywhere. Spots breaking two and three times farther out than usual. Waves breaking in mile long chains. Beth has called to tell me that Birri had to leave Veneros because the waves were too big. Too big?! I hear that a gem of a hidden break is going off, I’ll call it “La Puntilla”, a beautiful right, long ride and up until now I’ve never seen it breaking. It has near-legendary status. Birri’s there now and it’s overhead. I make another u-turn.
I pull up to the parking area for La Puntilla, just as Phil is driving out. We smile and each roll down our windows. I ask him how the swell is: “Man, I’ve been here since 7am. We had the break to ourselves for hours. Double overhead. My arms are spaghetti. 15 güeys just got here and the swell is starting to fall and the wind is coming up. Better get yours quick.”, paraphrased. We exchange shakas. I park and walk my gear to the beach to see a right break, head high and the left break on the far side about the same. I grab the camera and snap off a few captures. Birri is killing it, but the lineup is crowded. I’ve come to surf, so I grab the gear hit the car and do another u-turn.
With board in hand (camera back at the car) I walk out on to Destiladeras beach to see overhead waves lined up like jossling hordes of antsy teenagers. Veneros is unsurfable. Dinosaurs is overhead+ with maybe eight people out, half just sitting on the shoulder rolling up and over the freight trains coming though the lineup. My lower back is a ball of nerves. I recite an internal ohm relaxification ritual as I gear up and try to make it out past the thrashing shore break. The whipping current wants to put me right into the gapping maw of overhead shore dump. I paddle out to the lineup not facing out to sea, rather facing north, parallel to the beach, it takes me 20 minutes.
The lineup is farther out than I have ever seen it. I sit with the other gawkers on the shoulder, trying to come to peace with the virulent dodgy walled up sets coming through. They’re fast, vertical and open. You can fit a vw inside most. The lip is heavy. My lower back still courses with stress, I can’t seem to be able to relax, never a good sign for potentially being caught on the inside of large sets. In order to handle the white water you have to be relaxed and in control. Stress and anxiety drop your ability to hold your breath by several orders of magnitude. I focus on my breathing and try to enjoy the experience. Jason drops in on the first peak. Not fast enough to make it down the line, I drop in on the second peak. The potato chip 6′0″ shortboard keeps me too far down in the water and I drop in late. I fall out of the wave, drop four feet or so and catch the wall and I’m off, done the line. The steepest and fastest wave I’ve ever ridden, by far. I ride it surly wave to within a hundred yards of the beach. I turn around and look at the lineup. My back aches with stress. I make another u-turn, maybe another day…
I’m off to homebase, Burros, the headquarters. Overhead unruly sets are best served at a place I know intimately well. I arrive to the beach, to see nothing. nothing?! Blown out knee-high slop. No one in the water. what gives? Once again I do a u-turn.
La Puntilla it is, I should never have doubted you. As I walk out on to the beach, the lineup is almost gone. Two guys in the water and the sets at about shoulder level. Lots of onshore wind muddy up the already un-groomed lines. This is my first time surfing La Puntilla and with a vacant lineup, I enjoy every second of it. A classic rocky point break, when you’re firing, you probably give Malibu a run for its money. Lots of nice long flowing lines and soft carves (I leave the snaps to the local yokels). The spot has three sections and if you can make all three, maybe you can avoid the rocky edge. I worked on the tail stall and sitting on the foam ball, then down the line, sweet little weaving and in to the next section. I’m so glad you could make it, La Puntilla, a new friend. Later Thursday, we all get together to talk story. We all have stories to tell about the day.
Friday 8am, up to Veneros and Dinosaurs. less than a meter and no dice. I know there must be swell some place else, so I head back to town. I put in a call to Tzahui, he’s at Portofino with Chicharro and posse. It’s overhead. I grab the camera on the way down. A half-hour later I’m walking down the beach. It’s definitely overhead and heavy. When I get to the first rock jetty I can see hollow tubes and several shortboarders taking advantage of them. I drop the gear and grab the camera. The break is 50 yards from dry beach. Maybe less. The waves are ridiculously heavy and everyone does their best to show off for the camera. Only natural. I shoot for hours, luckily I brought the mono-pod. Lifesaver. I shoot 90º to the wave then 45º from both sides. good stuff. But then I get the bright idea to shoot from the rock jetty that juts out to the breaking section. The 100-400mm lens comes in handy here and although the scene is wide, the angle really helps capture the grandiosity of the swell. I kick myself that I chose to pursue surfing, the day before, instead of coming to this very same spot, which Tzahui says was easily twice as large.
The problem with being a surfer who also takes photos, is that the photography jones, more often than not, loses out to the surfing jones. It’s just a fact.
By the time I was done shooting, Friday, I was burnt to a crisp and in dire need of sustenance (monge). I snapped a few photos of Tzahui and Chicharro as they finally dragged themselves out of the water, packed up my gear and hit the road. Two full days of insane swell chasing. The first day tied to a board, the second tied to a camera. As it should be.
