On arrival the guestimate was 4.7 and a midsized board. By the time Frank and I had rigged the sand blowing down the beach suggested 4.2. I grabbed my smallest board (77) and launched.
One run later I was back on the beach to add downhaul. That worked, until Frank launched and the holes arrived. 4.7? 5.3? 4.2? Quit complaining...it's a sunny day in February and we're sailing! Christian joined on a 5.3.
It was up and down (stop complaining!) but I for one was grateful to be in the straps, to jump, to jibe (the water was COLD). I managed to duck jibe onto some swell, finding myself surfing down a mini wave switchstance...total luck but I'll take it! Gratitude for fun on the water in winter.
During a break in the action Christian showed me his latest technique for stashing emergency line. A decade ago we both used to tape line behind our harness bars...after Christian had to rerig a sail floating outside the Bowl. Over the ensuing decade we both stopped, but after Christian's boom failure last month he is now carrying line again. I must join him stat. Back to the sesh...
In the end a shlog on the 77, with a number of slow waterstarts in the icewater convinced me that I'd had enough fun. Also my lips couldn't form words any more so I went home, grateful.
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