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Sidelines Kalani Simpson |
A glorious postponement
at the beach
"The sea was angry that day, my friends. Like an old man trying to send back soup at a deli."THE morning was still cold, the day still a little bit gray. There were cars along both sides of the road for about a mile, like the world's greatest party had already begun. Many of them were piled together in the mud, gleaming rent-a-vehicles and ancient, battered surf cabs alike.
-- George Costanza
I eased in front of one with a license plate from Guam. Another, a few car doors down, had enormous yellow Bono glasses on the dashboard.
Everyone was on the beach. There were people, all kinds, all manner of languages and dress. There were locals, tourists, surfers. Even one man in a button-down shirt, jeans and what appeared to be bowling shoes.
There were photographers, with cameras already set up, positions already staked out. Photographers everywhere.
They waited.
We all did, watching the sea.
The contest directors waited for signs, yesterday, at what would (hopefully any minute) become the Xbox Gerry Lopez Pipeline Masters. The rest of us waited for word, for the announcement, that the signs had been seen, that it was on, that the contest could begin.
The most obvious sign, of course, was the one posted that said they were still waiting. It had been up, in one form or another, with slight changes, for hours, the official "stand-by" directive, at 8:30, then 9:30, then 10:30, again. They were watching closely for the next 30 minutes. They were hoping a better swell might show up by midday.
Really?
Then what's out there now?
You could feel the power. The crashes. The foam. A handful of guys were out there, perhaps pros, practicing and warming up. More likely, locals and eager amateurs getting a few precious minutes on a December day at the Pipe without a contest's kapu on the waves.
One guy was out there in some kind of helmet. He looked like Spider-Man on vacation.
Their rides were short, but breathtaking. They had an audience, they had winter tubes, and the sun had come out at last.
"What a ride," one spectator said from the safety of the beach, as his tiny daughter played in the sand next to him, oblivious to it all.
There was a steady wind and the sound of surf -- swishing so vicious, it roars.
Then came the announcement. They'd decided. No contest today. There were not enough "contestable" waves over a 30-minute period. That was it. It was off.
They expected a great swell for tomorrow (which would be today).
But a funny thing happened. The surfers kept surfing. A few more even charged excitedly into the fray. People stayed on the beach, watching, taking it in. The cameras kept shooting.
A seabird dive-bombed for brunch.
And when wind and water and sun hit just right you could see a rainbow in the spray.
They say it'll be better today, bigger surf at the Pipeline. Bigger, better, more. The contest should begin at last.
Until then we'll wait. Waiting never seemed so good.
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Kalani Simpson can be reached at ksimpson@starbulletin.com