Stingrays at Crabs

This week, I surfed the wave where I learned to surf for the first time in 20+ years. I hadn’t moved away or anything either, it’s right under my nose. I drive right past it most days. You’d understand why I haven't gone back though. It’s not the most pleasant place in the world but it's where I discovered all the joys of surfing. It might have more influence on Inherent Bummer’s origin story than I give it credit for. 

The wave is surrounded by industry in all directions. Oil rigs, boat refueling stations, piers. breakwaters, tourist traps, power plants, transients, restaurants, rebar jetties and giant trash-fed seagulls make up the landscape. The bottom is blanketed with radioactive stingrays, the water is toxic gutter from the LA basin warmed to uncomfortable levels by the power plant up the river…oh, and it never breaks — which is why it’s a good place to learn. You figure out the stingray shuffle before you know what ankle to put your leash on. The waves roll and reform all the way through the shallow river mouth sandbar from way outside — welcoming to beginners (and foilers). The stench of the dirty river always made Sex Wax smell especially good to me as a kid. 

This week it caught my eye. You see, it does have good days. I think I’ve actually been consciously avoiding it the past few decades. A romantic memory of childhood I didn’t want to ruin with the humbling reality of the place. 

This smorgasbord of south swell we’ve had has groomed said wave into a pretty fun sandbar wedge (my favorite part of surfing is that even this wave is talked about in hushed tones!) and I guess I just thought it was time to face my past. 

I had just picked up a brand new board at Surf Prescriptions — a little 5’6” “Spanish Omelette” with a thumb tail —  and was driving over the rivermouth. It looked like it was happening. I had a grip and a leash and some new Eithan Osborne signature fins from Captain Fin in the car. Somehow I even had a leash string in the glove box. It was about as gentlemanly an hour as could be: 2:30pm on a weekday and only a few foilers stood in the lot packing up. It was my window. 

I built my new board up, waxed it and trotted down as the pungent aroma of the place mingled with the coconut scented wax conjuring up all kinds of memories.There was the time I actually got a candy sucker lodged into my foot while excitedly running down to surf. A gross memory. Perhaps that was when I developed immunity to dirty water. A bloody foot with a sucker stuck to it in this river is more effective than any vaccine.

As I paddled out, I quickly realized it was kinda pumping. A slumlord version of V-Land. Wedging rights with that unmistakable pocket framed by a great reef or sandbar. My first wave was an overhead wedge. One big turn, feeling out the new board. Second wave, even better. Third wave, three turns! Why hadn’t I returned in 20 years? This was feeling like the best wave in town. As I kicked and scratched back out after another fun one, I looked across the river and saw local staple Archy. 

“How’s this place for an Inherent Bummer!” he shouted. 

I smiled back. He definitely, without a doubt, knows exactly what Inherent Bummer means now.—Travis Ferré