The bay waters were confused with the multitude of board sailors, sailboats, tankers and ferrys. The sheep run was spread out all the way to the old Coast Guard station due to soft winds and a 3kt ebb. There was no place to hide ... no place to shred.
Big swells were evident on the horizon. I trip to the bridge seemed in order. Chris and Annie were game for a little adventure but somehow I lost them amongst the sheep. I headed up alone. Half a dozen sailors were playing in the swells near the bridge so it seemed I'd have good company.
A group of 15-20 surfers near the rocks at Fort Point became evident as I got closer. Surf must be bigger than I thought. I got excited. I came around the outside of the south tower and settled in, playing in the standing waves between the tower and the point, waiting for the next set.
I picked my swell and took off on starbord toward the point. I was well up wind of the surfers and got in some turns along the sea wall, just clear of the rocks below. Another sailor joined me on the wave. I shot a "look" his way. Two more turns. Ok, a little worried now. I was on a stepening wave, almost completly de-powered, rocks and sea wall to my right, stone face scrawny version of Dinkerdick on my left, unhappy surf mob dead ahead ...
Uh oh. Like a mob of Hyenas, they showed their teeth and hurled obcenities with clenched fists. Oh shit. I picked my way carfully through the mob. Don't fall now. In the break now, in the wind shadow of the point, theres no chance, I'm in the water.
The mob leader big Asian dude was on me it seemed even before the white water cleared my head. He made it darn clear with copius profanity that neither he or any of his gang would help if I were washed into the rocks. Hey, rocks were the least of my worries, I can do rocks. Next came material and bodily threats should I be so stupid as to intrude on the lineup again. Old folks and Japanese tourists with cameras anxiously clung to the rails in hope that poor yuppie windsurfer slob would get pummeled by greasy gorilla surfer.
I was spared this time so that I might be a messenger. "Tell all your #$%!@ friends to stay away from Fort Point!". The Gorilla retreated to his peak and allowed his prodigys to take over the taunting as I drifted back to the wind line.
I rode a few more waves for good measure.
Graymatter