Three, sometimes four people taking off on the same wave, something I’ve never seen here. It’s starting to get uncomfortably crowded. Seems like it happened almost overnight, just two years ago. Although the alpha-male competitiveness of several surfers paddling for the same wave isn’t something I’m used to at my worldclass-point-break spillover spot, up until this incident, everybody had been respectful in kicking off the wave if they didn’t have inside position on the takeoff.

Thankfully, the first hour of my session was uncrowded as I was in the water early on this epic offshore, Saturday, Santa Ana conditions, summer-in-January kind of day. A half-hour later, a horde of partiers from the evening before paddle out, partaking in this ever-increasingly fashion trend  called surfing.

A 20-something catches the inside on a shoulder-high, bowl section. On the shoulder a mere 5 yards away is a bald man in his 50s. The younger surfer hoots to make his presence known, ready to break loose on a 100-yard ride all the way past the abandoned staircase. The older surfer, who’d you have to assume was deaf–or an ******* (ad Lib your own obscenity here) cuts back towards the inside. The younger surfer cries out in disbelief, “Dude!”

Older surfer makes no attempt to cut back away. Younger one extends arm out to execute the Miki Dora stiffarm. Younger surfer whiffs, failing to knock off older surfer. All this is happening in slow motion. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. The contagion has spread from the ridiculously crowded point break 300 yards away to my beloved, pristine, magic break.

Younger surfer falls into the soup seconds after trying to knock older surfer off. Older surfer gets a ride all the way to shore. Did he have prescience knowing that this would be an epic ride? No amount of ESP should entitle anybody to drop in on someone that egregiously.

I can’t see what happened between the two. Older surfer didn’t paddle back out and I lost track of younger surfer as I quickly had to snap myself back to my needs: catching a wave; with the inconsistent peak more crowded, it’s been several minutes since my last quality wave.

‘Dismiss now any negative energy you just witnessed. You can’t do anything about your break getting so crowded. Do the best you can and enjoy the experience,’ my Godhead tells me. ‘Be in charge of your own energy bubble. Don’t let anybody or anything burst it,’ says my intuition (closely related to my Godhead; they’re like first cousins).

So now what? I’m concerned that this first Miki Dora shove I’ve witnessed here, a west-facing soft reef break I’ve been surfing for 10 years now, is a portend  of things to come. In that case, I ‘put it out to the universe’, vowing to continue my path of  never ‘working for the man’; I schedule work when I want. After all, being stoked Monday through Friday isn’t so bad now, is it?

With winter already a few weeks old and the last big swell occurring nearly half a year ago, in summer, surfers eagerly await the first overhead session in quite some time.

Once again the surf forecasting websites have hyped up the swell several days in advance. I’m a surfing homeboy and when my local break gets 8 feet and above, it rarely holds shape.  I can already see it now: my once uncrowded break now filled with bobbing heads all over the place–including some SUP sweepers ruining the beautiful view of the horizon–jockeying for meaningless position as 9 out of every 10 waves close out.

I love racing down a tight, high line on a well-overhead wave, with one eye peripherally estimating how many feet overhead the wave would be if I wanted to angle down the wave face and try to do a steep bottom turn. But with so many people in the water and most waves where I surf closeouts, is it even worth going out?

Forecasts for this first winter swell predict 15 feet. Yeah, right. By now, most surfers should know that the these swells are at least slightly exaggerated, especially the first NW strong storm of the year. Some suspect the motivation for surf forecasting sites to hype up the swell: if people keep checking back to see if the wave models are reporting bigger surf then more people will see ads for the wetsuits and boards.

Turns out the forecast was off by about 5 feet. It was calling for 12-15 feet. The world-renown point break adjacent to the reef break I surf is uber-competitive on a 3-foot day. Imagine it on an 8-10 foot day with 75 people on the main peak. As the beach town in which I live has trended towards the upscale and affluent, more people have entered the water here.

This is a big spiritual challenge to stay positive on big swells with so many people scrambling for the same long-period set wave.

Have I lost my taste for bigger surf (bigger in relation to mere-mortal surfers; not tow-in adrenaline junkies)? I much rather surf 4-5 foot surf, focusing more on having fun, skating on the wave with my new quad-fin fish, than dropping into a 10-foot slamming wall, dodging everyone that got cleaned up by the previous set wave.

I used to get down on myself if I sat out a bigger swell. Now, I realize what truly feeds my soul and that is having fun sessions in the water. Rarely do I regret going out in huge, powerful surf, but would I consider it fun? Not with so many surfers in the water.

It’s not just the crowds in the water that jostle my spiritual nerves. It’s the crowds watching. Since when did an 8-foot day attract a North Shore Oahu gallery? I don’t ever remember seeing so many photographers with mega-zoom lenses. No doubt, with digital photography getting more advanced and accessible, the number of wanna-be surf photographers has ballooned on par with the number of people getting in the water.

There is more of everything these days and if I want to stay happy and keep a positive attitude, I better get used to it and learn to accept the fact that the more people who learn that ultimate happiness isn’t material wealth but quality of life, the better off society will be, even if that means more surfers to dodge on a big day.

What Kelly Slater is to pro surfing, Collins was, is, and will always be to swell prediction science.

Many old-timer salty dogs resent what the ritual of surfing has become: wake up, turn on computer, smart phone or tablet and log on to Surfline or Wetsand or any of the dozens of other surf forecasting websites and see through the surf cam and wave models exactly how the surf is doing without getting out of bed.

Without inlanders having to get in their car, the surf has gotten way more crowded. ‘Know before you go’ is Surfline’s motto. The creators of some surf forecast websites want you to log online and know before you go, not necessarily because of their benevolent nature, but because of the profit motive.

The more inlanders that sign up for memberships and click on banner ads, the more money for the powers that be at Surfline and the other sites.

If you’re way high up the chain at Surfline it doesn’t matter that the crowds in the lineup have gotten out of hand; not when you’re wealthy enough to rent the private surf island of Tavarua for weeks on end.

Are bitter salty dog surfers correct in blaming Collins, in part for his exploiting the Internet, monetizing surf predictions and driving hundreds of thousands into the surf?

I would hope that the surf cynics could see how Collins deserved credit for pushing the envelope. Without his surf model prescience, big wave surfers and pros wouldn’t know which giant swell to track next. Then we wouldn’t be enriched with so many YouTube videos and DVDs of pushing the envelope, Mt. Everest/K2 surfing exploits. What else would us regular Joe surfers watch while whiling away a long dark winter night: Jersey Shore?

Yes, it’s unfortunate that many breaks have become unbearably crowded. But in the long run, the more people who get turned on to surfing, the more people will be happy and follow their bliss and feed their souls. And isn’t that what life should be about? We’re realing that the American Dream has become more like the American Scream, a horrific shallow, spiritually-bankrupt pursuit of financial excess.

Sean Collins, perhaps more than any figure in surfing has been instrumental in helping landlocked transplants from the Midwest and beyond transform their mundane lives. Because of Sean, many thousands of people look forward to getting up in the morning.

Sure, there’ll always be some agro crazies in the lineup to try and spoil a session for everyone, but even if surf forecasting never existed, there’d always be a Surf Nazi or two in the water.

Collins, if he wanted to, could have become the surfing equivalent of Mark Zukerberg of Facebook, but he chose to keep his true love, surf forecasting and meterology close to his heart.

As someone who lives right by the beach and always surfs the same break, I don’t need to check the reports online. Sometimes I wish the Internet never existed, at least not surf cams and social media, but I certainly don’t blame Sean Collins for making the lineups more crowded; I credit him for introducing the bliss of catching a wave to the masses.

Rest in peace, Sean.

But fear prevents me from going out on double and certainly triple overhead days.

I always assumed that big wave hunters have no fear but in reading articles and interviews with them, they do have fear and that’s what keeps them alive and human.

So what’s keeping me from conquering my fear of riding waves that are one-tenth the liquid monsters that McNamara recently rode off the coast of Portugal?

For one, where I surf, we barely get head-high waves. It requires several years of training on big waves to master 20-foot beasts, much less being towed into a 90-footer. For every swell we do get that’s head-high, it seems to fade away after a few days. Overhead surf, when not occuring regularly, takes a few days to get dialed in.

I guess I can take it easy on myself and not think self-defeatist thoughts: “I’m a wuss, a failure, a kook, a pansy…”

Admittedly, I don’t enjoy surfing big waves. I’ve successfully ridden some amazing 9-10 foot face waves in the past and was amped from the adrenaline, but after studying natural health and realizing that flooding your body with adrenaline can prematurely age you, I now think twice about exhausting my supply of adrenaline and stressing my body.

Or to put it more simply, I have more fun riding 4-6 foot surf and getting really long, cruisy-carvy waves as opposed to riding the high line of a screaming overhead bomb and fearing getting crushed in the whitewater soup.

It’s not so much taking off on an overhead wave that scares me; it’s the duckdive in the impact zone.

Any surfer who has been out in overhead conditions has no doubt been held under for what seems like an eternity. If you don’t properly execute the duckdive–and on an overhead wave that pounds right on top of your head, that will often happen–you’ll end up in the spin cycle, feeling like being stuck in a washing mashine.

This is the part that scares me the most about big waves. Again, it’s not the paddling into a steep wave face and wiping out, but the eternal hold down.

Some surfers are wired to feed off adrenaline rushes. But a DivineSurfDesign surfer lives the middle path, no extreme highs or lows, just fun surf.

You have to know yourself. If you’ve ever felt insecure about your manhood or surfing ability based on the size waves that other surfers or your friends have ridden (or claim to have ridden), be honest with yourself. If you’re truly someone who thrives on conquering new heights, go for it, but if the thought of having your life end and leaving loved ones behind frightens you, then stay out of big surf.

As The Big Lebowski’s sidekick, Walter, says, “You’re out of your element.”

Leave the big wave surfing to the adrenaline junkies.

I could be landlocked in Kansas bored out of my mind waiting for the spring thaw so I can go tractor surfing.

Freedom to surf in the cold frigid February ocean is a blessing. I know some paranoid conspiracy theorists who think that our freedoms are slowly slipping away; they fear the U.S. is turning into a fascist police state.

As long as I have the freedom to surf when I want, I’m pretty happy with our democracy, as corrupt as it is with legislation determined by big business interests. Yes the divide between the wealthy and middle class has grown exponentially, but as long as we surfers can afford to buy a board and wetsuit and pay rent in a studio shack by the beach, what more could you want or need, besides more surfboards?

Even if the surf’s flat for a couple weeks, just being near the ocean and being able to walk on shore is all the freedom I need.

And as long as women have the freedom to jog on the beach or even surf wearing hardly anything at all, freedom of expression does not look threatened in any way.

Women should be allowed to dress any way they want to, in any society, and I’m glad that we have that women have the freedom to choose.

There seems to be a double standard, however, in how women want to be treated in society, especially here by the beach.

If a woman doesn’t want to be sexually objectified, should she be wearing short shorts with butt cheeks dangling out or sports bras as thin as dental floss?

I understand the power of wanting to be desirable to the other sex. We all want to attract a soul mate into our lives. That’s another freedom we take for granted, being able to choose who we want to marry or spend the rest of our lives with. There are literally billions of people on this planet who don’t have that right, with women, actually, girls, forced into arranged marriages with someone who looks more like a grandfather than a husband.

I view females as being one of God’s most beautiful creations, right up there with the ocean and dolphins. (I want to say puppies, also, but at the risk of females thinking I’m equating the fairer sex to canines, which I’m not.)

This traditionalist thinking probably makes me seem like I belong back in the 1910s, when women looked like they were subjects of the Taliban, not even exposing an ankle.

There’s a big divide between Muslim women being forced or highly encouraged to wear full body covering (niqab) and the freedoms women have in this country.

I’m not advocating that women on the beach wear the niqab or head veils or any other restrictive clothing. All I’m saying is that I see a great contradiction between how most women want to be treated. If they want to be viewed as a complete person, rather than just a sex object, don’t they make it harder by dressing up, or down, to train all their eyes on them.

What do you think?

Few shapers are able to scratch out a living solely based on taking orders for their own labels; they have to contract out to large production labels such as Channel Islands and/or local surfboard shops.

Large production companies have been using computer software which scans a blank, stores the dimensions for future copying and robotically makes cuts the foam blanks.

People who run surfboard making businesses strive for pure consistency so every board will ride the same.

But do computer-shaped boards ride the same? You could take a 6’2″ Al Merrick design and buy 5 versions of the same exact board but how do you know the ride would be the same. Shouldn’t a board have a soul?

A couple shapers I talked to, in attempts to better understand all these mind-blogging design theories, mentioned that they don’t think the machines take out human error any way.

So with small businesses struggling to stay afloat, should we dive deeper into our depleted pockets and help fund the livelihoods of our neighborhood hand shaper.

If we can avoid buying used boards on Craigslist then by all means let’s go for it. Compromise. Buy one custom board every 2-3 years and be on the lookout for garage sales often to supplement your quiver.

And large volume board churning businesses would be helping shapers by hiring more of them and not being so anal about replication, and, in certain instances, by not importing boards cheaply-made in China and Thailand.

Of course, some shapers are too proud to beg and won’t work for anybody else. But, if judging by the chats I’ve had with a few local masters of their craft, many shapers are open to at least doing contract work. Some are even supplementing by designing intricate fin art with colored resins.

Some surfers say it’s only a small matter of time before the next generation of shapers takes over. Hopefully they’ll master the art of using the hand planer before learning how to shape with the computer.

Your average surfer wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a hand crafted model and a computer version, but it would be a big shame if a few decades from now, hand shaping would be a lost art. It probably won’t be but for some longtime shapers, it does appear to be a dying art.

Visit the following shapers: SauritchSurfboards.com; Mike Slingerland (U.S. number: 1.760.436.7477) and Steve Clark of Rainbow Surfboards.

I live a short walk away from several bluff-top overlooks. I rarely go online and check the surf report. I can just take a two-minute walk and see what the waves are doing. I have a handy Tidelog that functions better than a normal tide chart. You can see not only what time the tides are high and low, but when they’ll start really pushing and draining, almost down to the half hour.

Surf cams have been around for over a decade now and many salty dogs lament them for ruining surfing. The surf cams, they argue, make it easy for inlanders to assess if it’s worth paddling out. If the webcam shows the best local spot running head high, swarms of inlanders will hop in their SUVs and invade the coast and the lineup.

Some surfers argue that webcams are much more egregious than text surf reports because often times the text reports get it completely wrong. But pictures don’t lie. If someone who lives far from the coast sees with his/her own eyes that a good swell’s pumping some fun waves, what more evidence do they need than it’s worth it to paddle out?

So have surf cams and surf reports ruined surfing? It depends on your perspective. If you’ve been surfing for decades, long before the Internet, you probably hate online surf forecasting. But even back in the day, there were phone numbers you could call to get a surf report, like the local hotline for the National Weather Service. You could even call your local lifeguard station. For a really detailed report you could even call a pay-for-service.

Things change and evolve. It’s okay to be nostalgic about the past and savor the memories of much-less crowded days. But if you’re really upset at how the lineups have gotten crowded, you are merely denying evolution. Things change. Either adapt or just accept you’re going to be a miserable curmudgeon. Do you really want to spend the latter half of your life a totally cynical buzz kill?

If it’s good waves and solitude you want, then move from crowded coastal areas. Or band together with other fellow surfers and become activists and legally try to get the surf cams removed.

But just because surf cams and online reports exist doesn’t mean that surf forecasting alone is to blame for crowded surf.

Even if those technologies did not yet exist, the waves would still be crowded. There are simply just more people in the lineup and the inlanders would find out one way or another if it would be worth driving to the coast from their mansions on the hill.

If you want to blame any entity for the massive amount of surfers in the lineup, look down at your chest. Chances are you’re wearing apparel featuring the logo of a popular surfing company. It’s these companies that have gotten so bloated, enjoying being traded on stockmarkets, that are the root cause of surfing’s mega popularity. Somehow these companies were able to thrust surfing into the global consciousness when just a few decades ago, it was an activity associated with societal drop outs.

If these massive surfwear companies never tried to be like Starbucks, then perhaps you wouldn’t see so many surfers in the water.

Before you go blaming surf cams and online reports for the influx of surfers in your lineup, look in the mirror and face the facts. Your consumption of global brands has contributed to your favorite spot getting crowded.

Am I compromising my own principles by writing a surf report? Do I really need the extra cash it’ll bring me to continue living my surf lifestyle?

Whatever I decide, ultimately, it’s not surf reports and webcams that have made surf breaks crowded. If I do write the report, I promise not to mention your favorite spot by name. I’ll even understate the conditions when they’re good. I promise….

Gidget’s parents fled Europe, fleeing Hitler. It’s truly amazing, then, that Gidget’s father, Frederick Kohner, hadn’t been speaking English as a first language for that long when he wrote a book about his daughter’s surfing and on-shore experiences with Malibu surf locals.

The book launched a Gidget franchise of memorabilia, corny Hollywood surf-centric films and television shows.

Although I found Zuckerman very friendly when I met her, I partly blame her for causing the first wave of Hollywood surf exploitation.

Can this first wave be somehow traced to how crowded my local break has become?

I doubt it. Yes, the Gidget craze launched surfing into the mainstream, but if her life hadn’t been documented, someone else’s would have.

The Hollywoodification of surfing would have eventually happened one way or the other.

Were Miki Dora and other iconic Malibu surfers hypocrites for blaming Hollywood on ruining their beloved break while acting as surfing stunt doubles in Hollywood flicks during the 1950s and 60s?

Of course, but I don’t blame them.

I just wished that in the 21^st century, surfing would go back under the radar; of course, this isn’t likely to happen.

I truly feel that I was drawn to surfing by a divine kick in the ass, or to be more holy and less irreverent, you could call it divine inspiration. I had a dream one night that I was surfing. The cut-backs felt so real. I knew I was destined to surf.

But how many people have been drawn to surfing as a result of the plethora of car and insurance commercials that exploit surfing?

Commercials using surfing aren’t just centered in coast areas; you’ll find them on the TV in Iowa, Ohio and Kansas.

There is an insecure small part of me that hopes that people don’t think I got into surfing because it’s perceived as cool by media conglomerates.

Surfing is a spiritual endeavor. I do wish that there were millions less surfers in the water. My home break seems to be infested with many surfers who are only out in the water because that’s the thing to do.

Gidget: Did you have any preconception of what your dad’s book would lead to?

Probably not. As much as I think it’s cool to be counter culture and resent Gidget for dropping the first nuclear bomb on surfing, she meant no harm.

And it’s not like surfing remained popular till present day; surfing fell out of vogue in the 60s and 70s…surfers in that era were once again the true outcasts.

I truly wish surfing was an activity for pariahs. I wish there were no surfing lawyers and doctors and stock brokers. How validated I would feel if surfing were still equated with being a beach bum. The challenge is to be spiritually strong and recognize that despite how crowded the lineups can get, I must be grateful for having this experience. Even in crowded surf, to be floating and bobbing in the ocean and then experiencing the ultimate: yoga with a wave.

Yoga means Divine Union and that’s indeed what I feel and what Gidget must have felt flowing and dancing with a translucent green wave of energy that just traveled thousands of miles offering up this gracious gift.

If Gidget’s dad hadn’t written about it, cynical surfers would certainly be blaming someone else. Gidget: I forgive you.

Postscript: Ending at the end of February 2011, the California Surf Museum in Oceanside, for a full year, has exhibited Women on Water. It features an exhibit on Gidget but it’s the only part of the collection that even media is not allowed to photograph because of copyright issues.

It’s a hedonistic, beach boy lifestyle that I am very grateful to live.

Still, there are many times when I think that there could be so much more I could do for fellow human beings, especially those with a lot less luck than with what I’ve been both born into and have created for myself.

As a surfing homeboy, I rarely take any surf trips. But I am seriously thinking about travelling to Ghana of all places.

It’s not a popular surf destination but because of one person I’ve been communicating with, it’s seriously on my radar.

In the classic surf film “Endless Summer”, director and narrator Bruce Brown travelled with Mike Hynson and Robert August to Ghana.

I watch Endless Summer every once in a blue moon, perhaps twice a year. One morning after watching, I was curious about surfing in Ghana. I’m not sure why, call it intuition. None of the footage in the movie seemed compelling or epic.

My intuition has led me to live in the mellow, classic beach town where I live. It’s also led me to follow a few career pursuits (such as Thai Massage Therapy) without really knowing too much about the careers before deciding to invest time, money and energy into pursing them.

So with this intuition, I searched for surfing videos in Ghana and came across a mini documentary produced by Black Star Surf Shop in Busua, Ghana.

Peter Nardini owns the surf shop (and surf school). He’s an average surfer who lives most of the year, in all places, New Mexico.

He’s a profound example of how one average surfer can make a huge difference in improving the lives of those less fortunate.

Peter’s long laundry list of achievements in Ghana includes:

• Teaching the locals how to run and manage Black Star Surf Shop and its adjacent restaurant
• Teaching some of the locals how to surf and how to teach surfing
• Establish a local tourism office that would require visitors to make a donation to the community
• Establishing the region’s first Internet center and getting computers donated to the center and teaching the locals how to run it
• Using his previous non-profit connections to acquire a cargo ship container worth $300,000 in medical supplies, delivered to the nearby hospital
• Leading turtle conservation programs
• Putting together beach clean ups
• Sponsoring the first surf contest in the area
• Sponsoring and paying a salary to a few local surfers
• Clean-water solutions to the local hospital
• Forming AfricanHealthNet.org, a non-profit that seeks to eradicate malaria through a unique mosquito netting with solar-powered fans and lights within the net

Peter has travelled several times to Ghana over the last few years. In Busua village, the chief insisted that Peter sit in on all village inner sanctum meetings and even adopt the local dress at such meetings.

I’ve been in touch with him several times over email and a few times by phone.

He really wants me to go to Ghana and document the nascent surf scene and the progress of the community improvement projects.

It’s been a professional goal of mine as a wanna-be surf journalist to break into a respectable literary surf magazine.

If I go to Ghana, I’m confident that what I would document would be accepted by at least one publication.

But here’s the big but…. It’s not easy for me to leave the comfort and predictability and first-world luxuries of the surf town where I live.

Going to Ghana might also be expensive. Once I get there, I probably wouldn’t be spending much money but with the plain ticket and the money I wouldn’t be making at home, it could be a costly trip.

But at the end of my life, I’m not going to reflect back on all the money I saved by not travelling somewhere; I’m going to remember all the travels and wild experiences I’ve had.

My intuition is telling me to go to Ghana and that it will be an amazing cultural experience.

I still have four or five months before I would go, so there is still time for me to be contemplative.

The health factor plays a role in my hesitation as well. Even though Ghana is a relatively safe country, often called “Africa Lite”, it still has widespread malaria, which Peter himself has contracted twice.

“Africa is gnarly!” several friends have warned me.

Well, if Bruce Brown, Hynson and August, as well as well-known peripatetic surfers Kevin Naughton and Craig Peterson, made it through Ghana, I’m sure I’ll be fine.

It will be a spiritual struggle for me to get out of my comfort zone, but if I go, I’m sure I’ll be rewarded tremendously, if not economically, then certainly spiritually.
And after all, isn’t that why we’re here: to help others and raise our spiritual consciousness?

My intuition says yes.

Still, I’ll keep with the tradition of not naming names. I don’t surf this point break because of the crowds, regardless of how superb the waves can get here.

A female surf icon, who made a name for herself by winning a prestigious Hawaiian surf contest about 50 years ago, and who has spent a lot of time in this area, wants to hold a four-day long women’s longboard championship at this premiere point break.

The break has not held a contest since the 1960s. Logistics, including a steep, long, narrow staircase with no infrastructure to support a contest, is the main reason there has been no surf competition here in over 40 years.

A quasi-religious group who owns a landmark temple adjacent to the world-famous break has a lot of influence in town. Their pristine campus hosts meditation retreats.

Having a contest here could potentially open the door for future contests. Although the city’s general plan states that this beach shall not allow for surf contests, the language in the general plan is somewhat ambiguous.

The city council voted to allow the surf icon/promoter to go with the process of applying for the special permit.

Surfers like myself are livid that such a precedent has been granted. If one contest is held here, what’s to stop numerous surf promoters from applying for a special permit.

Pandora’s Box has indeed been opened.

But what’s my motivation for not wanting the contest? Wouldn’t it be cool to watch the world’s best female longboarders put on a masterful display of grace and beauty just a couple minutes from where I live?

Wouldn’t having the contest here add to the local economy? Business owners are still reeling from the sluggish economy. The main street here would almost certainly benefit from a five-day surf festival, as the promoter is calling it.

But what about the reputation of the area on the headland above the surf break, where the meditation gardens exist? Wouldn’t it be dangerous to allow even just one contest a year?

If allowed, the threat of law suits would be high. If one promoter is denied a special permit application, they could merely cite as precedent the women’s longboard championship.

The quiet sanctuary of the meditation garden would be jeopardized.

Admittedly, it’s selfish reasons why I don’t want the contest to be held.

If allowed, all the regulars who surf this popular point break would paddle out a few hundred yards north, to the reefs where I usually surf. Not only the locals, but many visitors to the area would catch on to my favorite break, which has already gotten exponentially more crowded just over the last year.

There would definitely be a spillover effect on the reef break where I surf.

I went to the city council meeting, in which the council, by a 3-2 margin, allowed for the promoter to apply for the special permit to host the contest.

On a certain level the meeting seemed like democracy at its finest. Both proponents and opponents of the contest were able to address the council to state their case.

I have to give credit to the opponents of the contest who in my opinion didn’t come across as angry, self-righteous, selfish surfers whose only motivation was to not have to share waves.

Instead, they focused on the absurd and seemingly-impossible logistics of having to host the contest.

Even the lead brother of the spiritual organization was in attendance, stating his case that the organization had some vital concerns about the contest being held, especially since it would be in conjunction with an all-female silent meditation retreat.

On the other hand, you could see the machinations of local politics in gear. You could almost see the back scratching of the promoter and mayor, who is one of the five council seats.

Who knows if his decision was made before the council meeting, I wouldn’t doubt it.

Is praying to God to not allow the surf contest a waste of time? Is it totally self-serving? Instead, should I be praying for world peace and clean-water and food abundance for all humanity? How narcissistic is it to pray for something simply for the fact that it will allow me to catch more waves?

In the end, I didn’t have to pray much. Just days after the council meeting, the promoter decided to abandon her hopes to have a world-class contest at this world-class wave. It was out of respect to the spiritual organization, she claimed.

So for now, I am relieved that my beloved local reef break will not be threatened with even more people. I am also happy that the spiritual sanctuary nearby is saved from megaphones, bullhorns, jetskis and other surf contest cacophony.