Before the sun came up this morning, I realized that I need to buy a gun.
       In surfspeak, a gun is a big-wave board, and at 5:30 a.m., while I was shivering in my garage and surveying my quiver of boards, I knew that none of the five would work today. Not only did the waves seem to be building yesterday, I had read this forecast on the Internet (www.surfcheck.com) last Thursday, "We have a monster front building in the north Pacific at the moment, with projects [sic] swells at 20' plus."
       I didn't expect 20-foot swells, but I felt uneasy about both the longboard and the shortboard that I strapped onto the racks of my 4Runner. The 9' longboard is a cruise mobile that prefers slower, smaller waves, drawing long lines and allowing me to cross step to the nose and hang five. My 7'2", in contrast, cranks at fast, hollow breaks and can handle steep drops and the sharpest turns I can make. What I really wanted, though, was a 7'10" that wouldn't spin out in bigger waves and that also was easy to paddle.
       It took me four minutes to drive to Swami's, a spectacular point break that even the clueless Beach Boys recognized in "Surfing USA." When I pulled into the parking lot, I chatted with Liz Brolaski, a surfer who was hanging with her toddler while her husband snuck in a few before work. "It looks big," Liz said, noting how far out the waves were breaking. I chose my 7'2": If a big wave nails me, the board's easier to duck dive, a move in which I theoretically push it under the mountain of white water and save my sorry ass.
       On the way down the steps, I passed a guy who had been night surfing and was now heading home. "It's pumping," he said. He had a gun. I paddled out without incident, dry-hairing it. I was edgy and happy to see Mark, Liz's husband. He was on a 7'10". I spied several guys riding guns and two wearing surfing helmets, which are most popular on huge, heart-racing days. Well, it wasn't huge, but the larger waves had heft and were strong enough to break one gun. All of these factors had my heart beating faster than I like. Mark marveled at the beauty of the dawn light. I didn't.
       I caught a few fun ones, but came in feeling as frustrated as Steve Martin in The Jerk when he hopelessly attempts to snap his fingers to the beat of a soul song. Though only one wave seriously drilled me, I just couldn't compete with the crowd or find my groove.
       I redeemed my pride during a late-afternoon session at Beacon's, which is usually a laid-back longboard spot. The low tide gave the waves more punch than in the morning, but I had my confidence back, and it was greatly bolstered by the sight of a flailing student in Kahuna Bob's Surf School (www.kahunabob.com--check out his surf parties) and my first wave. This chunky, clean sucker rolled right up to me shortly after I paddled out, and my board danced across its lightly textured face. I caught a half-dozen more sweet ones and then called it a day.
       As much fun as I had, tomorrow I'm shopping for a used board that I can take out on the occasional big day. Happiness is a worn gun.