Morro Bay and the WSA—Western Surf Association—Surf Championship
November 9th and 10th
I wanted to walk around the Rock—you know, Morro Rock—the other day and just by chance came upon this surf contest. My usually relatively deserted beach (especially in November) was crowded with people and tents and when I walked down to explore I found myself in the middle of a surf festival.
Surfers of all ages with various kinds of boards were all hanging out and waiting for their heats to be called. Middle school kids in wet suits with sun streaked hair (why was I never never anywhere approaching that cool in middle school?) and short boards, and the “Legends”—full on serious, award winning adult surfers on long boards all competed.
Music blasted from the hastily erected two-story judges’ stand. The Cure, Elvis Costello and Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders were synced to the different groups, with the women surfers swimming out while Hyde belted out “Cause I’m going to make you see, There’s nobody else here, no one like me—I’m special…” It was pretty darn fabulous.
The music, the wetsuits, the spectators in their Ugg boots and dreads, the beautiful girls who looked as though they just stepped over the cover of the old Woodstock album—it all made me feel curiously young.
“Feel the energy of Mother Nature,” the M.C. instructed us, as petitions to increase wind and wave power were circulated. The waves were not huge—a surprise for the time of year—but evidently provided enough surface to ride. The water was not the perfect jade glass you get here sometimes, but frothy. “Spicy,” proclaimed the D.J. “Sometimes enough is enough.”
The weekend started out with an off-shore wind blowing hot out from the valley and out over the water. But by the first afternoon the wind reversed itself, switching to its dominant direction—west by northwest—and a tad colder. As often happens here there was a strong rip tide, pulling the surfers south toward the shadows of Morro Rock. Waves broke to the right and to the left. “Corduroy,” someone said, referring to the long multiple sets of swells.
The W.S.A. is the oldest amateur surf organization in the U.S., established in 1961. It sponsors competitions up and down the west coast and feeds champions into USA Surfing and into the World and International Surfing contests.
I know it’s popular of late to lament the condition of California. The fires (which were indeed so horrible that I don’t know if I can make myself write about them. Suffice to say that I keep a bag packed.). PG & E. Earthquakes. Homelessness. Expense. The general sustainability of it all.
But I’m sitting out in my tee-shirt in the November sunshine, listening to music, watching the surfers, walking on the sand, and gazing at the sailboats on the other side of the breakwater. I guess I’m just a California girl.
It’s practically time to go break out my old Beach Boys and Jan and Dean records (wherever they are).
Sometimes the universe gives you exactly what you need at that moment.
I went out my front door thinking I’d just take a walk and snap a few photos of the Rock. Instead, here I am. In the light with the music.