hellwoman
03-17-2008, 06:10 AM
Big Sunday
Jed Tucker
10:00am Sunday morning, February 24th.
My eyes attempt to focus on the computer screen as I see the real time data confirming the wave models on the weather forecast. I'm looking at one of the biggest swells to ever hit the central coast. Dumbfounded, I watch as Point Conception buoy readings jumps from 12 feet to 17 feet to 24 feet in hourly intervals, that's really quick, it means that the wave size is growing in leaps and bounds! I am dumbfounded and I realize the Santa Barbara coastline is about to get bigger than big.
11:00 am, check the Spit.
The Spit is outside the Santa Barbara harbor, its a favorite of Tom Curren and Kelly Slater, it wakes up on rare occasions, otherwise its small and dismal. It's windy, bumpy, flat, nothing like what I know is about to crash in the next hour. I debate whether I should paddle surf out and wait for it, instead I decide to move North, and hug the coast. The Waverunner is loaded on the trailer, I'm pulling it up Highway 101 along with my tow partner, towboards and the rescue sled.
12:00 pm, heading north
I'm passing by El Capitan State Beach, on my left as I drive north, there are clean groomed ocean stacked lines as far as the eye can see. 12 to 15' faces, less than 20 guys out, and not a drop out of place. Does anybody know? I'm losing my mind, this is surfing nirvana!
2:00 pm
We arrive at the beach to launch our Waverunner, not an easy task. This particular wave personality needs an absolutely massive, direct west swell, a minimum 20' swell with a 20 second interval at the local buoy, and northerly or 'low to no' winds. This seems to be an impossible request, those are perfect conditions, but here they are in front of us today. We did a reconnaissance mission on the big swell back in January. It was not quite west enough, the ocean wouldn't engage. Cortes Bank had 80' faces and our wave had 40' faces, but this current swell had a better direction and even more punch!
We had been training for this day this entire winter season. Our training ground had been offering consistent double to triple overhead closeout beach break surf in cold, windy, and otherwise miserable conditions. But like many, we learned to adapt to and work in unison with of the natural surroundings.
3:00 pm
We had been watching the waves from the viewable cliff and determined that a beach launch would not be difficult during a lull, we decided to call it a go. A crowd began gathering as we loaded our personal watercraft onto wet sand. We waited 5 minutes for a surge to come 100 feet up the beach and surround our Waverunner with enough water to push us back 10 feet before jumping on the ski. That was a lot of heavy moving water.
We are off on our voyage; zig-zagging around massive walls of whitewater, trying to pick the weakest part of the wave to get over. The waves wer breaking at the now non-existent kelp patch 1/4 a mile outside and they were reforming several times as they make their way in towards shore. No clean lines to pick here. The surge from each wave was so powerful that each wave we cross over causes the Waverunner to go almost vertical. My tow partner is hanging on the back with all his strength as I focus on my driving and the resulting landings. Sometimes moving with the pulse of a critical wall, I had to circle back to gain enough speed to do it all over again. The cavitation factor increased. Broken wave energy creates a mixture of air with the water, this 'aerated' water affects the jet pump normal operations, it's called cavitation. Due to cavitation and the increased amount of aerated water, the PWC performs at about 1/4 speed, forward thrust is greatly diminished. Another critical element to factor in.
By this point, we have swerved and crossed our way to the final reef on the outside kelp bed, but the waves are un relentless, they never let up for a second. All my past training tells me that even on the biggest days, there are brief moments where the waves will calm down just long enough to find an exit. So all my focus is directed towards keeping in position until this time comes, and wait, patiently.
Then 'it' happens. We come down hard off what otherwise were prior soft landings. I look back to see the rescue sled fold under the Waverunner. We jumped so vertically that we landed right on top of it, as forces of action pushed us back, the rescue board caught an edge and pivoted, but not the direction desired.
Expecting the rescue board to be broken in half, I was amazed to see it still in one piece! We had no speed for the next wave, so I was easy on the throttle to get momentum in the foamy froth. The Waverunner whines but barely responds, we have little forward traction. We almost got straightened out , pointing the bow of the PWC towards the wave and a safe exit, but due to the nature of our juxtaposed angle we're bucked off upon the landing as the ski flips upside down.
My tow partner responds immediately and jumps onto the PWC and grabs the rail to right the boat. One righted, we both jump on the PWC and it starts with only a second left to get out of there before the next wave pummels us.
Impact.
We surrender the Waverunner to the wave as we dive for cover. The Waverunner is carried all the way safely towards shore. I look at my tow partner and he looks at me. I grin and say 'the ski is waiting for us on the beach and I'll race you back!'. He puts on his dive fins he had clipped on his fin belt and I body surfed several giant walls of whitewater. Its amazing the difference wearing 2 life vests will make. It turns a potentially dangerous situation into a controlled, good fun time!
After 20 minutes of body surfing, I was able to make it to the Waverunner. Still not very responsive, but we were able to navigate the inside heavy shore pound and get back to our original launch position. We pull it up on the beach and find that the steering nozzle is broken. A matching piece of the nozzle is sticking out of a circular impression in our rescue sled. We were a little frustrated that we weren't able to try it again, but at least we were ok.
What's relevant and important to us is that we were able to train to a level where we felt comfortable in heavy conditions that are otherwise we would have considered very hostile and dangerous. Would we do it again? You bet.
Jed Tucker is a surfer and towsurfer and web designer/consultant based in Santa Barbara, California
Jed Tucker
10:00am Sunday morning, February 24th.
My eyes attempt to focus on the computer screen as I see the real time data confirming the wave models on the weather forecast. I'm looking at one of the biggest swells to ever hit the central coast. Dumbfounded, I watch as Point Conception buoy readings jumps from 12 feet to 17 feet to 24 feet in hourly intervals, that's really quick, it means that the wave size is growing in leaps and bounds! I am dumbfounded and I realize the Santa Barbara coastline is about to get bigger than big.
11:00 am, check the Spit.
The Spit is outside the Santa Barbara harbor, its a favorite of Tom Curren and Kelly Slater, it wakes up on rare occasions, otherwise its small and dismal. It's windy, bumpy, flat, nothing like what I know is about to crash in the next hour. I debate whether I should paddle surf out and wait for it, instead I decide to move North, and hug the coast. The Waverunner is loaded on the trailer, I'm pulling it up Highway 101 along with my tow partner, towboards and the rescue sled.
12:00 pm, heading north
I'm passing by El Capitan State Beach, on my left as I drive north, there are clean groomed ocean stacked lines as far as the eye can see. 12 to 15' faces, less than 20 guys out, and not a drop out of place. Does anybody know? I'm losing my mind, this is surfing nirvana!
2:00 pm
We arrive at the beach to launch our Waverunner, not an easy task. This particular wave personality needs an absolutely massive, direct west swell, a minimum 20' swell with a 20 second interval at the local buoy, and northerly or 'low to no' winds. This seems to be an impossible request, those are perfect conditions, but here they are in front of us today. We did a reconnaissance mission on the big swell back in January. It was not quite west enough, the ocean wouldn't engage. Cortes Bank had 80' faces and our wave had 40' faces, but this current swell had a better direction and even more punch!
We had been training for this day this entire winter season. Our training ground had been offering consistent double to triple overhead closeout beach break surf in cold, windy, and otherwise miserable conditions. But like many, we learned to adapt to and work in unison with of the natural surroundings.
3:00 pm
We had been watching the waves from the viewable cliff and determined that a beach launch would not be difficult during a lull, we decided to call it a go. A crowd began gathering as we loaded our personal watercraft onto wet sand. We waited 5 minutes for a surge to come 100 feet up the beach and surround our Waverunner with enough water to push us back 10 feet before jumping on the ski. That was a lot of heavy moving water.
We are off on our voyage; zig-zagging around massive walls of whitewater, trying to pick the weakest part of the wave to get over. The waves wer breaking at the now non-existent kelp patch 1/4 a mile outside and they were reforming several times as they make their way in towards shore. No clean lines to pick here. The surge from each wave was so powerful that each wave we cross over causes the Waverunner to go almost vertical. My tow partner is hanging on the back with all his strength as I focus on my driving and the resulting landings. Sometimes moving with the pulse of a critical wall, I had to circle back to gain enough speed to do it all over again. The cavitation factor increased. Broken wave energy creates a mixture of air with the water, this 'aerated' water affects the jet pump normal operations, it's called cavitation. Due to cavitation and the increased amount of aerated water, the PWC performs at about 1/4 speed, forward thrust is greatly diminished. Another critical element to factor in.
By this point, we have swerved and crossed our way to the final reef on the outside kelp bed, but the waves are un relentless, they never let up for a second. All my past training tells me that even on the biggest days, there are brief moments where the waves will calm down just long enough to find an exit. So all my focus is directed towards keeping in position until this time comes, and wait, patiently.
Then 'it' happens. We come down hard off what otherwise were prior soft landings. I look back to see the rescue sled fold under the Waverunner. We jumped so vertically that we landed right on top of it, as forces of action pushed us back, the rescue board caught an edge and pivoted, but not the direction desired.
Expecting the rescue board to be broken in half, I was amazed to see it still in one piece! We had no speed for the next wave, so I was easy on the throttle to get momentum in the foamy froth. The Waverunner whines but barely responds, we have little forward traction. We almost got straightened out , pointing the bow of the PWC towards the wave and a safe exit, but due to the nature of our juxtaposed angle we're bucked off upon the landing as the ski flips upside down.
My tow partner responds immediately and jumps onto the PWC and grabs the rail to right the boat. One righted, we both jump on the PWC and it starts with only a second left to get out of there before the next wave pummels us.
Impact.
We surrender the Waverunner to the wave as we dive for cover. The Waverunner is carried all the way safely towards shore. I look at my tow partner and he looks at me. I grin and say 'the ski is waiting for us on the beach and I'll race you back!'. He puts on his dive fins he had clipped on his fin belt and I body surfed several giant walls of whitewater. Its amazing the difference wearing 2 life vests will make. It turns a potentially dangerous situation into a controlled, good fun time!
After 20 minutes of body surfing, I was able to make it to the Waverunner. Still not very responsive, but we were able to navigate the inside heavy shore pound and get back to our original launch position. We pull it up on the beach and find that the steering nozzle is broken. A matching piece of the nozzle is sticking out of a circular impression in our rescue sled. We were a little frustrated that we weren't able to try it again, but at least we were ok.
What's relevant and important to us is that we were able to train to a level where we felt comfortable in heavy conditions that are otherwise we would have considered very hostile and dangerous. Would we do it again? You bet.
Jed Tucker is a surfer and towsurfer and web designer/consultant based in Santa Barbara, California