The surf session wasn’t disheartening in that the surf was bad. (It was, but I knew that before I paddled out.) What got me down was the fisherman on the pier throwing trash into the ocean (mostly plastic bags). And then the other surfers just paddling around the garbage and pretending it wasn’t there. I was the only one picking it out of the water and throwing it away. And I don’t mean that in boastful, toot-my-horn way like “I was only one!” but in a flabbergasted, unbelievable way as in, “I was the only one? Really?” First off, Fishermen, WTF? Second off, Fellow Surfers, same question.
Anyway, waves were chowder and what I did catch wasn’t worth much. (But I still was able to go surfing, for which I am always thankful.)