Thinking back to Hurricane Sandy now.
I know it was rough for the states up north but it remains a bitter sweet memory here. Florida was gifted a swell by her that we will be talking about on our porches long after we get old, if we get old.
Before I begin, I must say that I have written about a lot of swells. When I look back through by rambling in journals and this old blog, I usually try to dwell in words that paint pictures of barrels and long glassy faces that curl over not a drop out of place. Sure this swell had all those things. Some size certainly worth mentioning: double-over head plus. Spitting tubes, offshore breeze, and all the fanciful parts of an incredible swell.
I think for me though, something will stand out this time more than the barrels and perfection. During our second session north of the St. Augustine pier, a certain moment needs recalling. As we just reached the line-up, ducking under a final roaring train to narrowly escape a watery beating something very interesting happened. At least I felt it was. I was resting on my board, tired from the paddle out when off to my left I noticed some pelicans surfing by. Cruising in long beautiful formations that lick face of the waves, arching their wings to ride the air that is being pushed up from aquatic motion. One pelican in particular seemed to want to cut out early though. I was so lost in admiring them, that I was startled when I realized that this unique pelican was flying straight at me like a small airplane whizzing above the water. "Woahh, WOOAHH!" I slammed my face down against by board to duck as low as I could. I felt one of those woooooshing sounds that your friend makes when he tells that story. I could have licked the pelican had I been laying on my back. No contact though. Not even a feather. He must have seen me though? Right? I swirved to see if some pattern in his flight would reveal that this pelican was as surprised as I was. Nothing. Still cruising as if I was just a mere patch of seaweed below.
Kyle laughed at me. He was paddling only a few feet away. Holy guacamole I kept thinking. I deserve some guacamole after that. I glanced down at Donatello, the pelican tattoo on my ribs. "What was that all about Don?" Nothing. He doesn't usually say much at these times.
So yes the waves were amazing. However, I feel I will remember Sandy not only for her gifts but also for certain events synchronized with her patterns. What does it all mean? Nothing most likely. That really isn't any fun though. I try to believe there was some message being delivered, an omen perhaps. A good one I hope but I never want to assume. Further interpretation is to be sought I suppose.
Thanks for reading.
a taste:
