My alarm goes off at 6:30 A.M. to the sound of rain pounding the steamy windows of the Vans house. The palms are chattering and the street outside is dead. I roll over, clammy from a serious lack of showering and a serious abundance of humidity and press “end” on my phone. Silence, except for the turbulence outside.
Santa Cruz filmmaker Graham Nash is stirring in the living room, obviously mapping out plan B. Maybe some interviews with the Gudauskas brothers, Timmy Reyes, Jordy? But I’m heading into Haleiwa for some coffee. We’ll catch up later. Maybe I’ll pass something along the way that’s noteworthy.
But nothing gives. A quick check of Rockies, Pipe, and Off-the-Wall reveals nothing — just small, obliterated northeast wind swell. So I continue on. There’s a few people milling around the beach at Waimea, but then again, there’s always someone milling around the beach at Waimea. Jocko’s, Chun’s Lani’s…nada. The North Shore is still in bed. Well, it was Bruce’s birthday last night….
Once in the coffee shop, I stumble across the big news: LA is burning down, the economy is (surprise!) still shit and McDonald’s and Wal Mart’s earnings are up. Maybe that’s why things are quiet around here. But that doesn’t stop the dude in front of me from ordering a $100 double-mocha-frappa-can-I-getta-chihuahua-with-thata drink. I get my coffee and split.
Over at the harbor, the Reef Hawaiian Pro contest site is a ghost town. The stage that will have two champions dripping on its surface later this week is just dripping with over-flowing puddles of rainwater. This is kind of depressing.
Then, on up Kam Highway, two heads bob in and out of short-period chunks at Log Cabins. One goes left, punts a four-footer, tweaks out the tail in the face of the wind and sticks it. It’s Nathan Fletcher. The other taker is John John. This is sorta noteworthy, actually. They’re even making it look fun out there. Graham’s on the beach — he got it.
But it’s not enough to stir the rest of pro surf world from their couches and movies and girlfriends and beer. No, today is the type of lay day that only the surf world can appreciate. So, I head back to the couch to wait…something’s bound to happen.