I’ve preferred fins only up to this point but have found that the handplane gives just enough lift to help push your body into a higher planing position and get longer rides.
Bodysurfing: always double overhead with barrels.
Arriving before dawn
a dull yellow moon hangs large
over the horizon to the west
casting a cone of light
caught and reflected on the ocean’s surface.
I watch the moon set,
the first light of sunrise
and a wall of fog to the south
now competing for the sky.
The fog presses north faster than the sun can climb,
blotting the light
enveloping me in gray silence.
Swells slow, I sit atop my surfboard
feet on deck, knees tucked up
imagining myself some lost and shivering bhikkhu,
letting the current pull me deeper
until the shore is out of sight.
Rows of pelicans appear out of the dim,
wingtips dabbing water silently,
heading south, parting their path around me.
Anchovies break the surface in silver acrobatics,
schools fleeing from something larger
Dropping a leg into the deep
I stir, watching my toes
imagining depths, darkness, demons;
illusions bending my mind
back upon itself.
I grin, alone
foolish and wide-eyed
as fog collects and drips
from the brim of my hood