Somewhere in Santa Cruz, Calif., a handful of lifetime local surfers scores reeling, emerald barrels at a secret spot with nary a non-local in sight.
Meanwhile, that same day at Steamer Lane and Pleasure Point (Santa Cruz’s flagship breaks), a barney apocalypse of nons outnumber the locals 9-to-1. Sheesh, the multitude of man buns and Wave Storms (did you know Santa Cruz Costco was one of the first places Wave Storms were sold in 2006?). The safety factor is down. Way down. And the respect levels, on both sides, are in freefall.