[s.w. vancouver island] – on saturday at 5 pm: about one-foot – only one, gentle, curved lip forming around the westside boulder reef, at the lost village beach – i dutifully paddled out, alone (after battling my way through hordes of campers) – i waited patiently in too-shallow water, on the boulders, for just the right steepness to take off – i did so, catching a nice little drop down into the shallows – unfortunately, the shallows consists of round smooth boulders, and one of them chopped off my rear left fin, damaging the sockets off the center fin – ah well, we will get it fixed up pronto – marine winds westerly to 15 knots – hopefully, we will get up to a swell shortly, notwithstanding we are entering our surfer’s winter of discontent (a.k.a., august, in the northern hemi) -**********- and as he walked he saw from afar men and women leaving their fields and their vineyards and hastening towards the city gates – and he heard their voices calling his name, and shouting from field to field telling one another of the coming of his ship – k gibran ….