Of all odd places to ride waves, Point Zero ascends to top of the list. When Zuckie was asked why Point Zero was named Point Zero he replied in his casual goofy foot manner,”Why don’t you go and surf it yourself and see why!” No one speaks about Point Zero. People talk about Sakis which is the next point to the north, and drainpipes, but never about Point Zero. Pick, the archtypal soul surfer and one of the most talented of the pre-generation used to surf it alone. He never would talk about it either. One day Cool and Wracks picked up Pick hitching at Moonrise Blvd and PCh and he said, “Bring me to Point Zero today.” Kool who owns a brown and yellow Volkswagen van acknowledges the plea, drives past Point Doom and drops off Pick who draws on a cigarette he claimed from Cool and disappears in the bushes. Cool finally confides to Wracks why no one talks about Point Zero. “Pick was surfing it alone one day and a twenty foot white shark grabbed him in its mouth and swam around with him for over five minutes. Luckily a large set of waves hit the reef; Pick unzipped his wetsuit, wiggled out and escaped. All the shark got was a neoprene taco for lunch. Cool who also is a goofy foot never rides Point Zero either. “I like Colony,” he says, or “Let’s go to Drainpipes.” When wracks finally bought his first car at age 21, a car previously owned by the famous one for one hundred dollars, Wracks pulled down the side road and switchback, past the torn down beach house and the sign that says Point Zero and to the parking lot on the ridge overlooking the beach. The old barracuda, belching smoke and smelling like a refinery on fire comes to a rest. In front of Wracks sits a desolate beach. Point Zero sits as short left point, littered with boulders and has huge stalagmites sticking out of the water in the zone where waves break. Out about one hundred yards floats a huge kelp bed. The beach although short beautifully typifies the beaches in north County: white sand, sea shells, kelp on the beach and brick a bract thrown about by the intense tides of large duration and amplitude that happen during the summer months. To the north about five hundred yards lays Leo Carrillo beach with its famous Rock, right slide, and huge campsite across PCH. Half way to Sakis point, a dark strip of water abuts up to the beach. No waves break in between Sakis and Point Zero because a deep trench divides the two points and he or she can see the deep water showing with a dark blue shadow. In this trench that ends only ten feet from the beach, huge white sharks sleep. The only fatal shark attack in southern California occurred ten feet off the beach, in calm water, on a beautiful day to a swimmer wading in the water alone. The buddy to the person watched in horror as his friend was bitten in half then eaten whole. The water then became calm again. Why then does anyone surf Point Zero? Most of the time, small piddle waves crumple haphazardly down the left point in many sections and slow spots. Most of the other surf spots break better including Sakis that lays a ten minute walk up the beach north. The answer to the question lies in propinquity and timing. When the Bu is six feet plus, the reef at Zero at the point breaks. On a big southwest swell Zero breaks two feet bigger than the Bu on the reef with fast left slides after a shallow take off tube. One Saturday Wracks awoke late to discover a large southwest swell starts to hit North County south facing beaches. Immediately he puts his new Lightning bolt gun into the Cuda, Fires up the beast with a screwdriver in the ignition and heads north. Everyone in space including heaven parks at Surfrider beach. The Bu breaks at ten to twelve feet at low tide coming up in spinning tubular vortexes off the far point and everyone including the messiah floats out in the water on their big wave board. No parking spots remain and Wracks outclassed heads to places north. “I am going to check out Point Zero,” thinks Wracks. “I want to surf backside today in big surf. “ The ride seems short and Wracks keeps the windows down because the cabin fills with exhaust smoke as he drives. Down the small road the Cuda bumps and Wracks beholds the secret that Pick will take to his death.
It just happens that a large southwest swell focuses on Point Zero! The slowly rafting kelp forests one hundred yards out cover a reef that only yields breaking waves when the swell exceeds six to ten feet. In breathtaking revelry, huge mountainous breaking caverns rear up on the hidden reef and throw over like a left Sunset Beach Hawaii. The wave then hits the point and barrels down the line for fifty yards until it reaches the deep chasm that divides Sakis from Point zero and there the water remains calm. On this day when Surfrider breaks at ten to twelve feet and God thinks about going in, Point zero looms outside at fifteen to twenty feet high on the Sets. In his mind, Wracks thinks in an instant, like a light, “speed, danger, and sharks Oh My.” Wracks puts fresh Paraffin on his Lightning bolt space ship, pulls on a spring suit in blue, buckles up his leash and paddles out. A huge set hits and wracks barely make it over the top of the second wave of the set. The third wave backs off smaller. Out in the middle of madness alone, in the Kelp Bed Wracks sits. A person with a long board arrives on the beach and watches. A huge set of waves appears on the horizon. Wracks paddles to the right to get the second and biggest one. He paddles as hard as he can and sees a wall rearing up in front of him and Wracks thinks he is too far back and will drown. Wracks make the drop to the bottom and turns as hard as he can in a squat. The board accelerates like a bar of wet soap, and the wave comes over him, and the wall must be ten feet thick, and Wraks prays for four seconds. Neptune releases him and mother earth bestows him with a kiss and Wracks shoots out of a spinning vortex like he never has experienced before. After countless S turns down the line, Wraks exits at the trench and out of the corner of his eye sees a head slowly rise out of the water and look at him. Wracks paddles back out as fast as his skinny ass will go and the Long boarder who saw the wave runs down the beach with a nine foot six inch custom long board gun, jumps into the white water and paddles like a man possessed out to sea. Back in the lineup, Wracks sees the other person. The other person Wracks later discovers is Roy. Maybe Joist paddled out to put Wracks in a headlock? Maybe Roy arrives to size up Wracks for a go. Whatever the case, Wracks and Roy enjoy twenty foot waves alone with deep respect for each other’s territory. Wracks surfs at least six, maybe more, twenty foot walls all the way to the trench. Joist gets many too. Wracks starts to tire but knows that this session may be the best one he will experience in his lifetime. Finally a huge twenty five foot wave catches wracks in the impact zone and his leash slices through half of his board like cheese cutter. In the middle of the maelstrom, Wraks freestyles into the white water soup and feels something touch him. Sprinting like an Olympic swimmer, Wraks heads to the beach and body surfs a small ten foot wave into the craggy beach where he Rock dances through the white water and the breaking soup upends him two times. On the beach lies his new Lightning bolt gun almost cut in a half like a band saw. Wracks sits for awhile and watches the huge waves break in the kelp forest in a light summer breeze as the sun relentlessly puts a shine and glamor on the water’s surface. The rocks on the beach cover with green and the seaweed smells musky and the warm sand sits alone and other cars start to show up. Wracks waves to Roy and heads up the cliff. Roy sits outside alone. Wracks smokes a cigarette, climbs in the car, and drives home. Surfrider beach still has no seating available and people pay the Parking lot attendants at Alice’s restaurant fifty dollars American to park there. Wracks enters his house, walks to his bedroom and falls asleep. Wracks woke up at night to eat something. The dog in the basket wags its tail and yodels. Wracks eats, goes back to sleep, wakes up in the morning to wash off his gear and check the waves and the swell dropped down to six feet in size and Wracks returns home to study and do chores.
Wracks would savor Point Zero three more times at greater then fifteen feet before he leaves southern California. Amazingly, Roy appears out of nowhere with his long white long board with a red band around the center and they share huge, gaping, spinning, kelp forest vortexes together. A few other people eventually join them out at the reef but never more than five people at a time. A fin never came up to circle Wracks out in the lineup. However, Wracks could feel something there waiting for him, possibly waiting for a mistake. Occasionally when Wracks made a long ride to the chasm, he would imagine a head slowly emerge out of the water in the periphery of his vision from behind. The images from these ventures ingrains into Wracks memory and imagination. Point Zero still exists. Few people surf Point Zero because Surfrider beach and the Colony break better and situate in town. The secret is this: on a huge southwest swell, in the summer, Point Zero breaks bigger than anywhere in Southern California including Lower Trestles. Please don’t surf Point Zero Alone.