Story submitted 10/2/96
by Monkey Milk

LOCALS ONLY

They said "it had an eye the size of a man's fist." I'm thinking, "Great, nice thing to tell me, a surfer from New Jersey who'd just begun the long, sometimes nerve-wracking process of turning yourself into a "new" local in a strange new surf spot without a clue as to what to expect. What they were talking about in the line-up, of course, was a great white shark which had bitten clean through the kneecap of a surfer just up in Marin County. The lulls between sets brought nothing but boredom to the OB Crew, but I, on the other hand, was consumed and forced by agitation and nervous curiosity to stare down at my suddenly snack-like feet dangling in the green water below.

As if cued by my small fears, the next set had something very weird literally moving "within" the oncoming wave. This turned on an instant "adrenaline high" and I badly wanted to paddle away from the long, dark shape. As the set came rolling through, one huge seal pretty much had the "inside" on the first wave, a head-high peeler. It paused as the wave crested, then wiggled it's long body directly through the power zone. It went streaking through the bowl section, all the while embedded in the curl. I was amazed and freaked out. I felt a natural high, and I got the sudden sense that I'd met a local. I mean, they always take off on whatever they want, whenever they want, and have a knowledge of the break that will take a transplant like me a year to figure out. Luckily, the brown whiskered locals are a lot cooler than the ones in grey suits -- those guys are dicks!!

--Good Stuff in the Ocean, San Francisco