An epic day 5 of the CWC
By Matt Skenazy
Jet skis and sunshine today. Onshore and clouds two days ago. Why do
we do this to ourselves? The ocean is definitely Bipolar.
Lines stacking out the back. Peter Mel was right: biggest Coldwater
ever. This is what Hawaii feels like. Waves feathering on the horizon.
Second reef. Third reef. Is there a fourth reef out there?
All day it got bigger. Lots of current, lots of swell. Seals swept off
the rock, two grown men in the water looking so small in this great
big arena. The contest was moved to Indicators, the smaller, more
sheltered break inside Middle Peak. Another First Time Ever, along
with the jet skis.
The spectators were there. Families with kids and dogs. Hip kids in
shades, shirts off in the early November sun. Barbeques, music, girls.
This is what SoCal feels like.
Seabass got the first 10 in the round of 24. Six great turns, hard and
in the pocket, capped off with a double grab air (sorry Jimmicane).
Loose and stylish, like his famous dancing. He lost in the next round
Brett Simpson won his heat, but thought he was going to drown. “I was
just trying to surf better than those other guys out there,” Simpo
said. Good idea, but it didn’t work in his next heat. Though he won in
massive surf at Huntington this summer, Simpo’s out.
Adriano is through. Alejo Muniz, Nathan Yeomans, Cory Lopez and local
boy Kieran Horn too.
Jarrad Howse lost in the round of 48. That left Adam Melling in sole
control over his own date with destiny and $50,000, all he had to do
was make the finals. That’s all.
Melling made it as far as the round of 16 before he was bested by his
countryman Luke Monroe. I haven’t crunched the numbers, but I’m pretty
sure that leaves Jarrad Howse with a great big check.
Maybe the collective will of the people decide a champion? Simpo in
HB, Nat last year at the Lane. Kieran is the Hope for Santa Cruz now.
He surfed above and beyond today, hooted on all the while. Santa Cruz
loves a Hope, a reason to line the cliffs. They need someone to cheer
for. It’s beautiful.
This is what the Coldwater Classic feels like.