Last night was an amazing night. After my usual work routine at the house I decided to head out to the beach to surf. My plan was to catch a few waves, relax, get some exercise and then go get dinner and head home for the night. This was one of those times when a failed plan for the night turned into a hugely successful evening.

My hopes for great surf were not high since the swell had been dying out over the last few days. Mostly I just wanted to get in the water and unwind. The line up was nearly empty and the waves were scarce and small. Although very shapely when they did come and they were delivering a nice, fast, steep and hollow barrel. I started imagining if they were just two to three feet bigger it would be perfect.

The Northern California water was relatively warm compared to the last few days of iciness and after a few hours I was having so much fun I decided to stay out and surf into the evening. My mind was still visualizing the waves a few feet sized up but now under the slightly waning moon in my imagination. I closed my eyes and let the image of the perfect waves and moon burn into my brain. It was getting dark now and the few people who had been enjoying these small but very fun waves had all left except for myself and one other guy.

We laughed with each other joking about how it was going to suddenly get amazing and we would be the only ones in the water. I mentioned that the moon should be coming out soon and almost full and he said not for another hour. It was very dark now and nearly imposable to time any of the waves that did roll in. After about twenty minutes of struggling to catch anything the other guy said “later” and paddled back to shore. I was feeling a little cold now and though I would just catch the next wave in and be done for the night myself.

While waiting for a decent wave to ride in, I noticed the glow of the moon over the west ridge that boarders the beach. Right then a perfect curl came dancing my way. I didn’t even need to paddle. I just turned around and pushed my nose into the face and took off… Two steps up to the nose, kneeling down and grabbing my outside rail, I tucked right into a sweet barrel and started finger painting on the wall of a liquid cave. This wave was about shoulder high and perfect, peeling and barreling for about two hundred yards through multiple sections.

The excitement and rush of catching a ride like that in utter darkness was thrilling and the cold disappeared instantly. I looked back at the glow of the rising moon and knew at that moment it was on. My visualization of the perfect waves under the iridescent glow of the mortal moon upon the midnight blue-black sea was realizing before my eyes. Within minutes the moon had begun to rise above the silhouetted mountain ridge and the oceans smooth texture sparkled in the reflected light.

After another 15 minutes the glowing moon came into full view and the visibility on the water returned with a luminescent quality. The swell became more consistent and as the shifting tide settled the seemingly perfect waves got better, cleaner and yes, bigger! All of a sudden, after surfing ankle and knee slappers with the occasional waist to chest high sets, for the last four hours or more, I found myself covered up in tube after tube. I had to drag myself away famished and exhausted, about two hours later, wishing I had the energy to continue. It was much like saying goodbye to a girlfriend who is moving to a different country. Heartbreaking to leave. Forever memorable. Like that last kiss…