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The Strand

When dropping from overhead height into a wave, I unfortunately landed on Cayden who was going the wrong way in the trough, right and not left, all with the wave peeling north; immediately Cayde gave up body-boarding, for five minutes at least, exclaiming boogie-boards as something ‘STUPID!’ But then he rejoined his buddy Harrison and me back in the midriff-deep waters. Because the reef-break in Coronado is unique and the Strand something man-made, there are always marooned silver dollars and periwinkle shells underfoot, also waves doubled and tripled up which make for long, surging rides to shore. I catch the waves out deep, Harrison and Cayden catch the middling waves, and we suddenly ride parallel; there is that best thing when Cayden looks both left and right, decides to grab my wrist, then Harrison’s, and we ride to shore together.

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