Surf:

Tides: 
Who:

(Pics by Brian Gable - Click on pics for larger image)

Weekday Mantay, Jeff Marlow, Paul Moos

As far as I know, Neil, Emile and Chris met up at the Antique shop before the Bay Bridge at about 5:30am. Rod and I soon followed in his surf mobile at around 7am and picked up Paul on the way down at the 404.  Crew One checked the spots North to South while Rod, Paul, and I (Crew Two) waited desperately for the incoming telesurfreports while darting down the cop laden highways of Delaware.

Winds howled a hard and steady NNW in the morning and was slowly shoving it's way NW as the minutes rolled on.  Spot 1:  “It’s a no go, but there is size!”  Spot 2: “Whitewash City – winds should be better south.”  Spot 3: “Better, but South still.”

By the time we hit Rehobeth to pick up Paul's boards we knew where we were headed: the city on the sand, the O.C. (no relationship with lame TV show of similar name).  There, the beach would bend a bit south and begin to point just south enough to make NW winds go WNW for grooming offshore winds.  8th Street was our destination, right in front of Malibu's.

After Keahi’s disastrous flying board while driving trick and Neil and Chris’ ATM escapades, we assembled and made way for beach, peering out onto thick meaty lips that seemed to suck the sand straight out from below.  It was heavy out there, and a current was more than apparent in the water.  But the lefts, OH THOSE LEFTS!  It was probably about 8-10 foot and it looked like if you could just drop into one, it would be the barrel of a lifetime!  The sun showed overhead, the sky was clear, and the water even looked blue!  "Hey, is this really Maryland?"

Keahi:  What's Work!? I Came to Surf!!!

Once arrived, we decided on the spot and myself, Paul, and Keahi went out to polish off the day with some more manageable sets and current.  It was still North to South, but no great challenge to keep in place.  The sets kept on coming, and rides were had all around.  Lip smack here, cutback there – finally we were getting a groove.  With a small crowd, we were able to make some fun out of the dwindling daylight before heading home.

It was nice: I got to meet a lot of good folks all in one wave-filled day for the first time, the weather was gorgeous, and a little adrenaline got the heart pumping nicely.  Good times, good times, indeed.

My feet were totally frozen and I could see the green Heineken bottles Emile was drinking on the beach.  With that thought, I headed in with a fun little ride ta-boot! And *poof*, we were all home in bed dreaming about the next big day.

Thanks to Rod for driving, and we must ALL do it again real soon – now if only mother nature and Neptune would cooperate!

Brian Gable

Water was really moving around in a strange way, and after 3 legitimate duck dives under 3 legitimate 8' waves in the cold water, got pinned under a 4th MONSTER wave, held under in the undertow, smacked along the bottom down the beach, finally got to the surface, opened my eyes (couldn't see...hmmm ice water) and gulped/coughed a breath quick enough to see WAVE #5 (!!!!!!), and turned around and took the aerial-belly drop in to the beach. Got up on the beach and still couldn't see straight thanks to the 4 underwater ventures in a 50 second span. My first rejection since.....February 2002, wow. Saw one surfer make it down the face of one wave...only to eat it in the trough and get picked up and TOSSED. 

Collected ourselves (Jeff M, Paul Mo, me) and (tail between legs) went looking for something smaller and/or under control. Settled on Dewey and paddled out in a nice little rip around 2 3-6' peaks. By this time, offshores had picked up to 25kt+ and despite the ideal LOOKING waves, was just about impossible to drop in. Everybody got a few (really....a few...not many) and we eventually declared the day a moral victory and
headed back. 

Jeff headed out just north of the big monster peak, hoping that the current would carry him into position for that peak once he got out.  There was some kind a weird amplification effect going on from this peak's sandbar resulting in every wave being a foot or two higher plus the occasional set of mutant towering peaks that broke with an audible "WOMF!" followed by spray and smoke coming out the side of the barrel.  Beautiful to look at, but not where my chicken-ass wanted to surf.  Based on big-wave Dave's suggestion (his first suggestion was "I'd stay on the beach")  I headed a couple hundred yards north up the beach to where there appeared to be a small channel that was barely breaking on the smaller waves and breaking less top to bottom on the set waves.  I waited for a lull and made it easily through the shore break.

The next set sent big walls of whitewater rolling over me and once or twice throwing me off my board  (That 9'2" sure is hard to duck-dive).  I got another lull which got me into the impact zone just in time for the next set.

Got completely ummeled-spun-around-which-way-is-up-coughing-salt-water-crazy-frozen-head -in-a-vise.  For a while....  Then another lull came that got me paddling just past the impact zone. I was a hurting, scared puppy by this point.  I knew I was in over my head and with the
very cold water, drowning was a real possibility. I caught a medium size wave and didn't even try to stand up - just bellied in taking deep breaths of relief as the beach grew nearer. I got to the sand just in time to see Jeff paddling into the impact zone.  Despite his plan, the current had taken him now right in front of the monster peak - just in time for one of the biggest sets of the morning.  He dove through two large waves, but the third was bigger still with a huge thick lip that came down in slow motion and exploded right on top of Jeff's head.  Looked like a 10' wave to me- but Jeff would know better.  It was a beautiful Hawaiian looking wave that "womfed" and jetted spray out of its barrel.  Amusing to replay now, but at the moment I was counting time hoping to see Jeff resurface.  It was at least a minute and several waves before I saw any evidence of Jeff.  He popped up, inside, and getting carried quickly south by the current.  He must have rode something in because soon he was trudging back up the
beach.  He sat down on his now cracked board looking dazed, and couldn't coherently talk to us for a few minutes.

All three of us trudged off the beach - whupped by the Atlantic.

We drove north in dripping clammy wetsuits, looking for something surfable for mere mortals.  Three guys in a van, wet and still suited up, clearly humbled.  We checked spots along the way, with the W wind rising quickly.  North OC spots were still closing out.  NIRI had a good dozen surfers out, but didn't look at all worth that crowd (evidently the afternoon before at NIRI had been epic).

We checked Dewey and found the waves to be smaller (2-4 with 4-5' set waves) and getting out less of a problem, particularly with the help of a strong rip.  The left of the peak as it went into the rip channel looked workable - and it was - if you could get your board into the wave against the strong offshore wind.  My technique was to maneuver around the impact zone, waiting for a very steep peak, ready to break, that I could slide down into the wind.  As a result - I got launched from a few lips, I took a beating on bigger waves that broke outside, but I did get a few mediocre rides.  The current here was very strange with the rip headed NE and then eddying around back to shore.  It was very hard to stay in a good position.  Kirk seemed to be using the same strategy and caught a few rides.  Jeff figured it wasn't worth fighting the wind and went out for a nice long paddle around Dewey Beach.

Cold and wind-whipped we changed, traded wave stories, relived Jeff's earlier hitting-head-on-wall, and drove home with very few rides in the bag but a good day of surfing had by all.

- Paul Moos

The saying goes: "Pain is temporary, wounds heal and chicks dig scars.... all chicks except my wife."  These words of wisdom don't even get into the multiple stress cracks added to my favorite speed stick. Anyone know a good shaper that could reproduce the board, with a bit more meat?

I did enjoy the majesty of the swell, the company on the ride and 
the paddeling exercise. Go ASC.