======== Newsgroups: alt.surfing Subject: Hortense - not a big wavemaker, but I'd take her to the Prom!! From: Foondoggy Date: Mon, 16 Sep 1996 16:44:52 -0400 After a frantic check all up and down the Mid-Atlantic Friday, it looked as though we were going for an instant replay of Edouard. Reports said Hortense was moving North fast and would be directly off (way off it turns out) our home break by Saturday morning. We left work later than normal and headed for the surf palace, chasing remnants of the last line of thunderstorms that preceded the cool weather front. When we got to the beach I immediately went down to the dune path to check out the surf. The ocean and horizon were pitch black with clouds but directly overhead stars sparkled as the freshing offshore breeze cleared the sky and cleansed the waves. I could only make out the trails of whitewater in the distance. As each wave swept across the sandbar I checked it's progress..."makeable, makeable, closeout, big fast section, oooooo there's a little plume from a tube sneeze!" I could only guess how big it was. I stood and imagined the lines as they approched, formed along the outer edge of the bar, then came up and over producing the uniform white lines in the distance. These conditions are what every Right Coast surfer dreams about ..... an offshore storm, benevolent winds that groom and shape the swells and the warmest of late summer water. This is the essence of what is known in the East as a "Fall Classic". I shuddered a little from both the excitement and the noticeably cooler wind coming from behind me. The stoke was building. Later that night I was very restless. Mrs. Foon came into the living room with a bottle of barely chilled wine and 2 glasses, wearing a big smile, a Jupiter Beach Dune Dogs Saloon T-shirt....and not much else. "What's a girl gotta do to take your mind off that other woman?" She giggled. Smiling I looked one last time at the flickering, time lapse picture on the local weather station of Hortense moving up the Right Coast and turned off the set. I reached to cue up some dreamy, classic jazz cds and said, "Hortense who?" DAWN: Well not exactly. My eyes popped open and I glanced immediately at the red digital numbers on the alarm. It read 4:03am "Damn it, 4 hours sleep is not gonna cut it!" Already I knew my rest was over. Throwing on some sweats, I grabbed my mug of coffee, Mrs.Foon's lap blanket, and headed for the deck swing. The temperature was a brisk 55 degrees, the offshores had picked up overnite and the noise from the beach seemed promising. Off in the distance I saw 2 more cars, stacked with boards, pull into the dune path parking lot, joining the 3 that were already there. Let it be said when there is an important surf event, our normally laid back Right Coast surfers show up to ride, very early. I wandered down to the dune to talk with some of the guys who were both sleepy and excited. Everyone knew at first light there would be a charge for the water. Several had driven all night to be here. At 6 am there were 10 cars full of peering eyeballs sweeping the break. There were even a few Moms dropping off their teenaged sons for the session. God bless the mothers of young surfers. The horizon was filled with the distant cloud bands from Hortense. As dawn approached these walls of water vapor would be beautifully backlit with the rosy arrival of a brilliant sun. The air was crystal clear and crisp. At first light it was evident that Hortense was no Edouard but in some ways she was better. Long headhigh plus lines were seen unwinding along the sandbar making no one think any less of our new best girlfriend. Before you could barely see out to the break you could hear the snap of straps being removed from boards. Saturdays session lasted literally all day, from dawn 'til dusk with groups of surfers rotating into the break depending on energy level and prevailing conditions. And what conditions they were. The not too severe angle of the swell guranteed 95% long smokin rights. You wanted screaming pipes with super fast sections - you got 'em. You wanted long steep walls for maximum nose time - you got 'em. You wanted speed pockets where the ride started in a crouch and ended (sometimes) the same - you got 'em. You wanted long lazy climb and drop sections -forget it. Never happened. Speed ruled the day but if you didn't have it, the wind gave you all the wall you could handle until the inside unwound at a pathetically fast rate. Most paid the price for fun, but everyone came up hooting. Leashes snapped and a few boards got broken. This was a small price to pay. The four hours of sleep just about killed me. My meter zeroed after 2 hours and 8 great but not necessarily successful rides. I headed for my beach chair for a much needed nap. Twice more that day I'd go back to the well but the very best session was the last. The tide was again coming in and the winds backed off. A handful of survivors capped the day with barrel after barrel. Most were turn and burn beauties but everyone accepted the end results good naturedly. When I finally hung up the fins I was quite literally numb. A quick bite and a few tequillas was all I could handle. I thought I'd seen the best that Hortense could offer. Dream on Foonboy. Sunday came bright and clear. It was a picture perfect day featuring again, a day long session - this time with only shoulder high "performance waves". There were just so many incredible rides the level of skill was intense. Saturday proved only to be a warmup as our beach showed off the very best that Hortense could offer. If possible, waves were cleaner, better and more rideable. Each and every rider knew they would not likely see this level of quality at our beach soon. You and I don't have the time for me to describe this session (I'm outta adjectives here). Just imagine real hollow, shoulder high tubes cranking continuously for 75-100 yards! If you had the speed, you were a hero. If not, you got nailed. No brain surgery here. Biggest hoot: Four bottle nosed dolphins in a diamond formation cruise all the way in on a swell. As it rears up, they each pop out the front and dive back underneath the breaking wave. Best ride: I'm not sure where the talent came from but some of our visiting guest were contest caliber riders who really knew how to "work it." I lost track of the airs, releases, floaters, tube rides, lip gashing, and head dips. Awesome. My best ride and scariest moment: I am screaming down a headhigh wall stuck 2/3s the way up in the face for maximum speed. I've got maybe 2 inches of inside rail and the edge of my right fin holding me in the face. Water is coming off the inside edge like a fire hose into my face. I am essentially flying blind! I start hearing screams and shouts in front of me but I can't see. Suddenly the screams stop. I finish the ride and paddle out. Two guys meet me and they both start jabbering about how I just cleared their heads by about a foot as they paddled through the wave. I never saw 'em. Most beautiful moment: Late in the afternoon, the beach is just littered with exhausted surfers who've been nailing it all day. They're strewn around like cordwood. There are very few in the water. The tide is very low, the wind is just a whisper and the setting sun shines directly in the face of the super glassy waves. Along comes a good size 3 wave set. As each walls up and begins its machine made precision peel, sweeping along the shallow sandbar, the plume of spray that comes off the lip as it lifts up shows a brightly colored rainbow for a few seconds. As they unwind, every surfer stops what they are doing and stares at the still startling perfection. A couple of hoots go up, a few guys grab their boards for the last call, but slowly people begin to applaud in honor of Hortense and what she brought to our funky little beach break this day. This was some kind of special visit my friends. And at the risk of sounding stupid, (Cliche ALERT!!!) Gentlemen, it just doesn't get any better than this. And if it did - it would kill us all dead! -Foondoggy (I am still stunned by this session)