I’m a loser for getting to ocean too late on Storm Day. By the time I arrived at the Bowl (the inside of which is semi-sheltered by a jetty, making it the choice launch when the wind is howling from the East) the good guys were taking short runs on three-meter sails, and Jon Ford suggested that I consider sailing one of the inner bays (the last time I launched in the ocean against Jon’s advice, I washed up down the beach bleeding and semi-incoherent after the shore break had its way with me.) These days when Jon suggests passing on the ocean, I pass.)
I stuck around and watched for awhile, and it was genuinely awesome. Every second a windsurfer was sailing in control looked like a victory to me in the 40 knot gusts. One sailor (Bill) launched a modest jump, going up perhaps only six feet…but then hung there, and floated and floated and floated like a glider in a thermal before slowly coming down. What a gust!
Jeff was the first one on the water (“I had to get out before the wind really came up…I don’t have a small enough board for this!”) He had derigged and switched to snapping photos by the time I got there.
I did get my share of storm, though, as described in Part Two…
(Top photo by Jeff.)
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