Leash Plug

“Plug” for short

A daisy chain reaction of mishap

I went to Montauk with my surfer girl gang on a biggish summer windswell. It was epic, so much that I missed my ferry back to Rhode Island. And the next one. Then there was only one left, and I barely made that one because I had to take two other ferries to get there. My best leash fell out of my car at the first spot check. We went in at the second spot, despite some hesitation from the rest of the gang. The paddle out was intimidating but it was firing and not crowded. I reminded them the rule. One must never leave waves for waves lest one find the conditions of the second spot less agreeable than that of the first, then end up back at the first just in time for the wind to switch.

I used my backup leash. A handmade number by a guy in the Northwest, who is possibly my first and only sponsor. I was hoping to go back and grab my good leash at some point but the day got away from me. The waves were big but soft and forgiving with a nice slopey drop. Getting in and out was the scary part. Large ship-sinking rocks protruding in the lineup and loose boulders rolling around in the shorepound. One of the girls sprained her toe. Another dinged her board. The crowd was very friendly if not taken aback that we were all there. We found out later that it’s considered an advanced break.

The wind switched so we went back to the first spot. There were some famous surfers in town for a contest and they all ended up at the same spot. I got to chatting to one of their crew instead of looking for my missing leash before making the mad dash to the ferry in time for the last departure at sunset. Mourning my lost leash

There was another big swell a few weeks later

Artificial Distraction

Archived February 7, 2023

GIF from accidental photo burst misfire with the new Soloshot robo-cam. Could have gone a lot worse, considering I bought it off a guy at a truck stop in Exeter.

NNE/NE winds 15mph / 3.5ft @ 7s

The waves were fun. I borrowed my sister’s longboard. I haven’t surfed my primary board (6’8” midlength thruster setup) since it broke my nose. I’m preserving the nostril-shaped bloodstains on the deck to make a print (to be continued).

I’ll surf it again eventually but for now the long board feels like a slower, safer transition back to surfing after my facial trauma. It’s a 9’0 EPS board with thin rails and a thinner glass job. But I like running around on a big plank and catching lots of waves at rocky Rhode Island breaks, even if it means owing my sister a $175 ding repair. I probably caught 6 or 7 this time which is not bad in the cold and the crowd. I only last for about an hour and a half tops in the winter. The saltwater takes a toll on neoprene more so than the freshwater of the Great Lakes. The seams leak and the cuffs get crusty.

Today I was accompanied by my new friend, Mr. Soloshot. Other friends have offered to take pictures of me surfing, but they always get bored and look away right when I’m catching the wave of my life. I thought Mr. Soloshot would be different, because he is a robot. Turned out I was wrong. I was told his gaze is glued to a lump on your arm and follows wherever you go. But in the end, he succumbed to the same boredom that has afflicted many of my friends.

I got him all set up on the beach. I gave him some instructions. He blinked in acknowledgment. I paddled out, but as soon as I left the frame, he got bored and found something more interesting to look at. Seaweed. When I returned, he was gazing listlessly into the shallows. I wish I knew what was bugging him. And I wish he told me before he agreed to photograph me. Hopefully we can repair this friendship, but until then my surfing practice will continue to go undocumented.