All the guys arrived at El Porto only to find 1s and 2s at best. Josh had a hunch that Venice might be better and that we should head up and find out. So we all piled into our cars and travelled a few miles up the coast.
At Venice, the wind was much more prominent. So much so that the lady at the parking booth asked me, “Are you sure you want to go surfing in this?” before she took my $4.
The waves weren’t really waves at all, more like super choppy water. We joked that the water was like “chowder” and began to affect terrible Bostonian accents. We floated out in the ocean and joked around while comically trying to catch the non-waves.
But then the rain started to fall, which is always surreal when you are out in the ocean and surely a bad omen. From nowhere, these giant Big Wednesday waves started rolling in from WAY outside. All our “wicked” fun suddenly became deadly serious. We all turned to the waves and started paddling like the dickens to try and clear the set bearing down on us. But one by one we all got picked off by these huge monsters and put in the spin cycle (except Josh who had the courage to try and ride one, though he still wound up in the spin cycle).
After a good pounding, we finally had a lull in the set. I popped up out of the water and took stock of my buddies. Great relief – all dudes accounted for. We were all left to retrieve our boards and start paddling again before the next set-of-doom swept through. CHOWDAH!
For the next 30 minutes or so we did our best to slay these dragons, but were invariable swallowed up every time we dropped in.
$4 well spent.