Hurricane Marie took over my life (and the life of probably ever surfer in Southern California) for about five days straight. It was an incredible event. There was so much hype and frantic behavior. Injuries, ambulances, even a death. Rumors of beach closures, demolished piers, and toxic sewage leaks into the lineup. My garden dried up. My social life suffered. Priorities, obligations, and daily routines went out the window and if you weren’t surfing the swell first hand, you were probably mind surfing it on the cams, Facebook, or Instagram, especially during the hours of 9 to 5.
I remember driving up to Malibu after work on Tuesday night before Big Wednesday. The sets were huge (and growing rapidly). I wasn’t sure if I was going to paddle out. It took forever to find a parking spot. The sun was about to set but I wanted to experience the swell first hand. My goal was to catch one single wave and make it safely back to shore. It was amazing to feel the power of the massive swells rolling in. To hear the hooting and hollering coming from the sand. Watching Laird Hamilton shoot the pier with my own eyes. Beating my wave goal 4x. And getting out of the water to my brother watching from the sand who even captured the moment for me (2nd pic below, thanks broski). After this session, I surfed a few other spots and was lucky enough to get invited on a boat and explore places where boat access is required.
It was an incredible few days, but it didn’t end here. We then packed up and drove South to Baja. Those pics are coming next.