Classic ended until we could no longer water dance with her will go down
as one of the true beauties of all time. I wouldn’t call it the biggest I’ve
ever seen around here, but I dare to compare the consistent machine-like
quality with anything that has come before it.
Day after day of pumping swell had our legendary point breaks
looking like dreamscape paintings hung on gallery walls. Long dormant
reef breaks had surfers hunting garage rafters for dusty gun shapes only
used for solitary paddles out to dark blue peaks.
I spoke to salt-crusted wave riders that were on the back end of
9-hour sessions with no intention of stopping. The gross productivity of
our region took a huge hit when office hours were posted as, “until further
notice we will only be open from 8 a.m. until the surf is 8 feet.”
For now, we are surf saturated—but the nice thing about waves and
blind dates, there are always more on the way.
Ryan Moore bottoming below sea level.