I Dream of Surf

The best wave I’ve ever surfed is a novelty right-hander that spins up inside a sandspit-protected harbor in the little Central Coast town where I grew up. At a glance, the setup doesn’t seem like it should be capable of producing surf—it’s a good half-mile or more from the open ocean, tucked way, way inside a boat-filled bay on the edge of a brackish estuary. While it seems impossible for any swell angle to actually reach the break, it’s somehow pumping

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