I walked out to my local break late on an always-crowded Sunday (MB Jetty). The water was a balmy 70 F, sun out, light offshores, 4-6 foot faces with good form and a southerly swell wrapping around the jetty. Counting surfers, the number climbed from 32 to 42 in about 10 minutes.

Bad News!
No... Good News! Just to the north of this mass of inhumanity was a checkered flag for swimmers and spongers only. Zero surfers!

No one was picking off the juicy outside set waves over here except for a few poaching surfers only to be run off every 10 minutes or so by the lifeguards. I ran home and grabbed my ancient boogie board with the half-peeled off Grateful Dead sticker and kicked to the outside. I had forgotten how slow and bumpy the old Morey was, but I had a blast catching as many waves as I wanted, alone. On more than one occasion I found myself instinctively jumping to my knees. King of the wankers.
The evolutionist teachings in my primitive brain kept saying, "You are adapting to a changing environment quite nicely, today!" I congratulated myself at exploiting this unfilled niche, but not without wishing I had a spongy-looking kneeboard that mimicked a boogie board. Isn't Bud working on one? Hmmm....
I felt a little ashamed, too

, by taking such an easy path. But it reminded me of an old story about Vespas and big women (fun to ride but don't let anyone see you doing it)

. Anyhow, wanker or not, I left the beach with a big smile - the ultimate measuring stick of any surf session.
An interesting day of mixed feelings.
jacksquid
PS. What exactly is a "wanker?"