Morro Bay pictures giclee are a way of keeping memories of a great surfing place. It is one of the most beautiful seascapes in the coast of California.
I was supposed to get a car and, meet Mr. Koola, a surfboard crafter in Morro Bay, who would be my host there.
The trip along cattle and dairy farms was not too long before I arrived at the touristic town.
The Spanish had arrived in the area on September 8, 1769, and saw “a great rock in the form of a round morro” sitting between the large waves.
The city was named after that hill-rock formation some years later.
The Mr. Koola was a middle-aged Filipino-Hawaiian giant. After some coffee and doughnuts, he told me that a luau for the competition I was attending would take place that night in the town’s fishing council hall.
At the tropical themed cocktail, I met many of my adversary competitors and they were all very nice and funny.
From afar, I could see Mr. Koola talking to a long-haired very tan girl I could not make much of since she was facing the other way and some people were blocking my line of sight.
One of the local competitors, which happened to be a really cool fellow, asked me if I wanted to watch the surf with some other guys since it was a full moon night.
We were able to see some pretty perfect waves against the reflected light. And, there, in the middle of a very dark reflecting waves, a smudged loner surfer in a bodysuit was enjoying the most perfect waves I had ever seen in my life.
“Is that Mr. Koola’s daughter?”, one of the guys asked.
“Yeah! I wonder how she manages to see them waves, man! That girl is bat or what?”, the other responded. And we stood there, in the magic of the night, watching her slide the silvery waves one after the other for over an hour until she came out of the sea without even giving us a glance.
In the next morning, the competition was hard and I had an accident with a noob that crashed my board and I almost drowned. Coincidence or not, I was rescued by a girl that turned out to be no one other than, Marina, Mr. Koola’s daughter.
The batteries for that day came to an end. Unfortunately, the competition was over for me since my board was totally wrecked, but I did not care; Marina’s company and nice talk was a warm pleasure.
To my surprise, Mr. Koola, after learning what happened, told me I could use one of his experimental boards and I was glad to take my chances with it.
Marina was such a nice and hypnotic girl, but my upbringing would not let me try a rude move towards my host’s daughter in his own house.
The next evening, I ended up finding that exquisite surfboard really, really great, and, not that surprisingly, placing third in the competition.
Enough to pay my trip for a month or so, thankfully.
On the way back to the house, after a few commemorative drinks, Marina kissed me as an overture for one of the best nights of my life.
During breakfast, the next day, to my relief, Mr. Koola seemed to find everything very natural. After we ate, he handed that surfboard to me and said: “It’s yours, kid. You earned it! Marina, show the boy some California waves! And I don’t take “no” for an answer! Do you hear me, kid?”
Marina took the rest of the month guiding me around the California seashore coast, one the most fantastic seacoasts in the world.
On our way back, she showed me Morro Bay’s state and national bird sanctuary and the Marine Protected Area.
Too bad my California dreaming vacation had to come to its end. Marina had to go back to her Biology Science College and I took my plane back to my country carrying the best prize I could ever bring back home. Marina in my mind.
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