I am seemingly always amazed at people in California who hear of a Tsunami warning, and then
rush to the beach to "check it out" or "watch" or whatever. I mean, what sense does that make? One is supposed
to head for the hills to avoid this, correct? Several people - I think four - who did this - were swept away
from their vantage points up in Northern California, where one was unaccounted for and I'm presuming
is dead. What a horrible thing to wake up to in the morning, hearing about the earthquake and tsunami
on NPR on the radio on the way to work, of course, with a surfboard in the back of the truck for my first
day back surfing after over 30 days out of the water (see February Flop). I mean I was half way to work
with the board in the back and felt like a complete idiot driving on the freeway like that. I was like,
"Good god, people must think you are a lunatic" heading to the coast to ride a potential tsunami with
a 7-11. I almost turned around and went back home to put the board back. Honestly. But then I thought,
I might need it in the event of a tsunami, since I work only a few hundred yards from the Pacific Ocean, at
a highly elevated and protected area, thank god. I got to work and really didn't want to be anywhere NEAR the
coast, honestly. I wanted to drive to Alpine (elevation 3,000 feet) instead. There's no shame in hiding.
So I sat working and watching the other-worldly news and videos and reading news reports and trying to work,
and realized that the effects of the tsunami were to hit Southern California at about 8:45 a.m. or so. As a surfer,
I monitored this very closely, I guess even as a concerned human being, wondering about the horrors going
on in Japan. Unbelievable images and videos, watching Japanese and Hawaiian television news online, and how fast
everything propagated through the internet and social networking sites.
And the board still in the back of the truck in the parking lot. Also monitoring surf sites, monitoring tide,
buoy readings, and then hearing that the wave struck California and did damage up north. Then more hours of monitoring
and hearing that the chance of another wave or waves, hitting California go down exponentially as more time passed
during the work day. Still thinking of the board in the back of the truck and what to do with it.
Shock and horror followed watching all this unfold, and it was very eeiry driving down an almost deserted
Sunset Cliffs Blvd. towards Ladera Street knowing what had happened in Japan, Hawaii, California with the tsunami.
Approaching the break, the last thing I heard on the radio was that the "all clear" was given to the rest of the world,
for the most part, as far as no more tsunami activity. Was it breaking my own rule, going to the coast. I wasn't going
to "wait for a wave." I was going surfing after what I deemed a decision that was made based on fact that the danger
of anything happening had subsided. It was a Friday afternoon, which I like to surf at the end of the week, and the
last day before Daylight Savings Time, and I like to surf on these types of days, no matter what size the waves,
as wierd as that was to just write. So I suited up and paddled out. After being out of the water for over a month
just getting into a wetsuit is hard work, getting out to the outside where there was junky, jumbled, cold
windswell was even harder. Paddling out over a shallow spot, there were unusual currents swirling around and I had
to take some "evasive action" almost paddling sideways, to get out of a rip. The ocean seemed to be tilting or bobbling,
maybe like a back yard pool after an earthquake, but on a very small scale. But there was a different feeling to things,
mentally and physically. I barely made it outside with weak arms and a back that was already aching. Not many people
out. Maybe four or six.
First wave was an expected disaster. Went to stand up, my left hand slipped off the side of the outside rail
on a right and went down immediately. It was actually a decent wave, too. Everyone saw me fall. Second wave a little later
was better, at least managed to stand up and ride for about 75 yards. Tough conditions to be out in for the first time.
Wind coming up. Lots of chop. No real discernable peak. Had to paddle and chase for waves, which I was not in shape
for. Just paddling back out after wave No. 2 was "exhausting."
That bobble/wavy feeling was still around. It was kind of a slack tide, not much movement, but there was another
shallow spot showing on the right side of the break, as the tide came up, which was another little unusual
thing going on. Damn the water got cold. No time to adjust to it as it happened with being out of the water
for so long.
Felt like a newborn horse trying to stand up on unsteady, wet legs. Almost slipping off the board, almost thinking it
was not a day to be surfing because of what happened in Japan, but happy to be out. Getting dark. Couple more
waves caught and rode. Couple of friends catching more waves than me. Getting darker. Need a last wave in. Then one
headed right to me, definitely the largest wave of the day, breaking from south peak to north peak and I was the furthest
one south. Got yelled at to "turn and burn!" by a friend, and when all eyes are upon you, you have to go. Everyone else was
out of position, the wave crested and started breaking toward me, I turned and burned and stood up on a wave that was two to three
times the size of anything else tonight, made the drop, and then felt really, really strange, like some huge force
was pushing me forward in the trough, something that was out of my control, and the wave tried to throw me off
almost immediately. Managed to stay on the board after some arm flailing. Then a second very powerful push almost
threw me off again, and I knew this would be my last wave in. Then almost got thrown off AGAIN and struggled to stay
standing, and finally straightened out in a wall of whitewater that took me all the way in to the beach, and I rode dangerously over
the rocks and basically threaded through the reef and stepped off on the sand. That was a very strange wave
to ride. There was something else pushing it, something else behind it, something else happening, with the tide
almost full it should not have done what it did. Call it co-incidence. Call it imagination. Call it strange.
It was a very powerful, strange feeling on that wave, like the wave itself was a huge rodeo bull trying to buck
me off the entire ride. My other waves tonight were nothing like it. Didn't see anyone else ride one like it
or come back out saying anything was out of the ordinary.
But I think there WAS something extrodinary going on - across half the world, here at home, the events of the day
were extra-ordinary. And again, traveling on the highway with the board in the back, it felt, like, still kinda stupid
considering what had happened. What a strange set of circumstances occurred on the day I planned to get
back in the water.
The two wave plots courtesy/NOAA Center for Tsunami Research. The plots
leave me wondering about how the wave energy breaks away from the source and finds its way towards
Northern California and Oregon, which to me looks almost like a 90 degree bend. Is this underwater topography at work where
the energy is focused along a long trench or something? Amazing.
- cliff
