Theater of Wind and Waves

Greens are turning to yellows, some reds are popping up, and I'm a few days out from my 2012 hiatus.  This is when man and dog escape from the hustle and bustle of society to work in solitude, explore, and recharge.  I've got a few things to do around the house in Raleigh, fix dings in the surfboards, and everything else should fall into place.

Aside from my excitement about the whole ordeal, now is also the time when I think back to earlier trips.  I found some pictures from this year.

Back to July...

5:30AM

This year wasn't unlike any other  in terms of weather; hot, muggy, barely a breeze.  Water temp was in the solid 80s, and with that, barring a storm, comes crystal clear water for a few hundred yards off of the shoreline.

I saw a lot more nature this year.  Schools of bait fish were pretty constant, along with diving birds and dolphins.  I don't get the chance to get close to dolphins too often, but let me tell you from experience--those fuckers are pretty big!  Flipper may look cuddly on TV, but bottle nose dolphins can get upwards of 12 feet, and have the brass to back it up.  Years ago, when Matt and I were surfing, we saw a pod approaching, and I paddled over to get a better look.  I didn't see anything at first, but noticed movement below my line of sight.  I was sitting on my board, and a full grown dolphin slowly swam right under me, on its back, looking up directly into my eyes.  It was a pretty powerful experience, in a non-hippie kind of way.  I suppose he was just checking out what the hell was going on in his ocean.

Jensen and I had paddled out to a sandbar about 75 yards from shore to mess around on some 1-2 ft junk waves.  There were a few other people around swimming.  As we sat on our boards, waiting for the next set to come in, floating up and down, I saw a looming brown/grey mass under the water about 30 ft away.  Jensen immediately said "what was that?"  I replied, "We should paddle back to shore now."  I'm over 6 ft, and this fish had a few feet on me, putting him somewhere around 8-10ft by my estimate.  I've seen sharks before while in the water, but never anything over a few feet.  I wasn't overly worried, given that it was probably a sand tiger shark, which is harmless, but there's no way to know.  Sand tigers eat small fish, things like that.  The other possibility was that it was a tiger shark, which is quite different.  They eat things like fish, turtles, humans, squid, tin cans, family pets and Volkswagens.  Pretty badass fish, and not the kind you want to be swimming with.  Regardless of what it was, it's always cool to experience things like that in the wild.  Even better to experience it when you reach shore with all limbs intact.

There are always good reminders of past storms and shifting land on the island.  We drove south down highway 12, looking for something to do.

About 20 miles down the road, some clean, 3 foot waves were breaking outside of a new inlet created the year before by that raging biatch Hurricane Irene.  When Irene came through in 2011, it was one for the ages, and we were at a place where the times are defined and marked by storms.  They have historically altered the landscape, creating new inlets, closing off current ones, swallowing beaches, homes, and anything else hanging around.  At this particular spot, the winds blowing off of the sound side had connected the Atlantic ocean to the fresh water ponds on the other end of the highway and boom, a new inlet was born.  Pretty cool, unless you live on Hatteras island, in which case you're totally fucked.  This is the only highway connecting you to somewhat important things like food and fresh water.  They had to do everything by ferry for months after the event.  I remember reading an article while down there and the author described the island as a "theater of wind and waves."  I've never heard of a better way to describe the Outer Banks, particularly in the off season.

After mother nature kicked man in the junk, man got up and said "well, get a load of this shit," and threw together a new bridge.  This temporary bridge looks like a patched pair of jeans, but it works.

Here's the bridge over the small inlet.

This spot broke for the next few days, and if you got there early enough in the morning, you could basically have it all to yourself.  The one morning we saw a manta ray leap clear out of the water.  It sort of makes you wonder if he was just showing off for the ladies or on the run from something bigger.  We had a few hours there, but by mid morning it was getting crowded.  When you drive down Highway 12, sometimes you'll see cars parked along the side of the road at seemingly random places, meaning that something's up.

This will be my fourth hiatus, and the song remains the same:  working, surfing, exploring, relaxing--the vast majority of the time, just the Jack dog and me.