THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, December 10, 1995 TAG: 9512070160
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 06 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Another View
SOURCE: BY GLENN W. SCHAIBLE
LENGTH: Long : 110 lines
6:30 Tuesday morning, last week in July. Time to get up and get organized. First thing is to turn on The Weather Channel - the standard procedure for Outer Banks surfers. Check wind conditions, temperature, tidal change. The most important this time of the year is the tropical update.
Looks like another sweltering day on the Outer Banks. Winds are light offshore, and no chance of rain.
Down in Florida, things are quite different. Hurricane Erin is heading for Miami. I believe Florida weather is getting ready to cool off. It could get really nasty.
Erin is not a powerful hurricane, with maximum winds of only 85 mph. But Erin is massive and loaded up with moisture. The course it's taking over the Bahamas makes it too far south for any surf in the northern part of the Outer Banks (Nags Head through Kitty Hawk). South from Pea Island through Cape Hatteras, the swell should be a lot stronger.
Just my luck . . . I'm working on a big resort house down on Hatteras Island.
Well, I turn off the television and start packing my tools and surf gear. Maybe I won't need the tools.
I grab my 6-foot-10-inch board. It has a lot of nose rocker with hard rails. The board is a medium wave gun. It makes really steep drops and holds in the tube really good. A must board for bigger, more powerful Outer Banks waves.
After packing up, I decide to check the surf in town. The swell looks good (two to three feet) and is ripping down the beach, pushing hard out of the south.
I stop by Bob's Grill to grab a quick breakfast. The food is good, and there are plenty of surf pictures to look at. After some grub, it's time to head south.
From my apartment in Kill Devil Hills to Cape Hatteras are about 55 miles of countless breaks.
Looking off the Oregon Inlet Bridge, I notice there might be some good waves farther south. The day before, I surfed down at Frisco on some two- to four-foot waves. It was a lunch break session and only lasted one hour. Rights and lefts, 30 to 40 yards, real hot-dog waves.
Water temperature was 84 degrees, very clear and extra salty. Should be a lot bigger today.
At first check in Pea Island, the surf is three to four feet and still pushing hard out of the south. Time to keep going.
Next stop is Rodanthe, an area known for its hard-breaking waves. I park on a side road and walk down to the beach. Crossing the dune line and looking around a row of cottages about 125 yards from the break, I know I'm in business.
Three waves come ripping down the beach, all rights with big thick lips. The waves look four to five feet high with six-foot sets, breaking shallow and pitching hard, real mean.
I jog back to my car, grab my board and hotfoot it for the surf. The paddle out is cake - 25 yards through a deep hole and over to the first peak.
There are two peaks. The first is breaking 40 to 50 yards with more than half close outs - plenty of gruesome barrels. The lips are two feet thick and pitching hard. The waves came very fast down the line. After five waves, I walk back from the rights, picking the sand out of my ear. I decide it's time to check the second peak.
This one is a lot better, all rights 40 to 125 yards and with a better line. Fewer close outs than the other peak. One big barrel after another. There are six to 12 people in the water. Nobody's shoulder hopping. The clean-up sets are 10 to 12 feet from the front and freight training. Roundhouse cutbacks could be a big mistake if tried on the wrong section of the wave. There's hooting everywhere.
I see one board broken in half, and a few people are cut here and there from the frequent pounding of waves.
Sitting outside waiting for a wave, I paddle a little closer in. Here comes a big set. One of them rolls through and gets double thick. Two surfers sitting 10 yards out from me yell, ``Go for it!''
Why not? I turn around and paddle five to six quick strokes before the wave launches me down the face. In front of me is a massive tunnel of water, much like a railroad tunnel but with no way out. I have this bad feeling, and after a split-second evaluation of the situation, I decide it's hopeless.
I kick my board in front of me and succumb to getting pounded. What a beating! I stagger onto the beach, checked for dislocated bones, torn muscles or massive bruises. What luck. No injuries.
After surfing for three to four hours, I start to get tired. I decide to wait for one more big one.
Oh, no! This looks like the wave that pounded me earlier. But what kind of surfer wouldn't go back for seconds?
I turn quick and get in eight paddles before the wave rockets me down its face. I'm looking up at a big gnarly lip about eight feet in front of me. I believe this is where the phrase ``go for it'' came from.
I pull in tight, and the lip launches over me and past the front of my board. Another railroad tunnel, and it sounds like the train is on my back.
My hair is standing on end. I come flying out of it, feeling lucky not to take another pounding. Two surfers on the beach can't believe I made it out.
Sometimes missing work is tough. The following day in Hatteras, I find that eight of the 10 guys on the job had surfed. When the surf is good in the Outer Banks, all surfers try to juggle their schedule.
This is a day in the life of a surfer in the Outer Banks of North Carolina.
It's not the most consistent, but it's a great place to live and has plenty of good waves.
And occasionally, it really goes off. MEMO: Glenn W. Schaible lives in Kill Devil Hills and surfs wherever he can.
ILLUSTRATION: Photo by Mickey McCarthy
Turning at the bottom of an Atlantic breaker, Outer Banks surfer
Glenn W. Schaible looks down the line.
by CNB