The west winds are back, sadly here to stay for the foreseeable future. And the south swell that brought those nice lefts has departed, replaced by short-period windswell garnished with chop. Sigh.

As long-time surfer J had room in his schedule to give me some duck-diving pointers, we planned to meet up in HMB after work, with L joining us. But J was not having a good evening, arriving late and sans board and wetsuit, after discovering his wife took the key to his gear locker on an out-of-state trip. L pulled an extra wetsuit from his cavernous truck and offered to share his shortboard, so we were still on, sort of.

When I joined L in our lineup of two, I had no success catching any of the fickle waves. Poor J’s evening kept getting worse once he borrowed L’s shortboard and started to paddle out. Indecisive in the face of a breaking wave (over or under?), he got sucked up over the falls; the board’s tail hit him hard in the ribs and he lost his wedding ring. Sidelined back onto the beach, he lamented that “Those who can – do. Those who can’t – teach.”

Not that bad, J, and I appreciate the tips, although I think I’ll stick with Coco and keep using my foot. On the plus side, I didn’t smack my mouth or chin on my board as I’m wont to do on bad duck-dives. No breakthroughs, but I’ll keep working on it.

It was a bit disconcerting to see Harvey the Headless Sea Lion on the beach.