By the looks of the genuine excitement on everyone's faces during these swells, you'd swear our 130 miles of coastline were riddled with a littany of Padang Padangs, Mundakas, Chicamas and Cloud 9s. I mean, they were delirious. I couldn't even count the number of times I stared in amazement at an ocean littered with dumping, sucky, nowhere-to-go, sorry ass excuses for waves, while someone stood looking at the same scene and blabbered about how epic it was. Figured they had to be looking at a cam on their phone of somewhere else in the world, but they weren't. They were looking at the same bunk I was.
In fairness, I did score an early morning at a perfect A-frame and another day of amazing lefts, but the waves weren't the bombers we were anticipating given the hurricanes spinning around and the power was virtually non-existent. Plus, I worked for those two sessions. Neither happened at the normal go-to spots and if not for untold effort (aka hours on the road), they wouldn't have happened at all.
I'm psyched the ocean's alive with swell and that hurricane's are spinning off Africa with incredible regularity. But let's call it like we really see it and put the rose colored glasses back in the medicine cabinet. If Poseidon sees that we're content with last night's leftovers, we may never get to eat steak again.