Surfline code red.

I am currently sitting in the dining room of a classic New England bed and breakfast, the remains of a croque madam resting near an empty coffee mug on a fine china plate on an old farmhouse table, watching gusty winds lightly tickle the still-green leaves of maple trees outside the window.

Terror clawing at all those around.

Hurricane Lee, which has transitioned to Post-Tropical Cyclone Lee, is brushing past the coast, somewhere over the green mountains, leaving uncertainty and potential rain showers in its wake. The power is out in parts of Maine and Rhode Island was hammered with the exceedingly rare Surfline red designation.

I have only ever seen yellow (poor) and green (good).

Red, apparently, is “epic.”

Last evening, at party in an art gallery, a surfer showed me video clips of a lesser-known wave somewhere New England-ish. “Epic” seemed like an understatement. Perfect lines reeled both left and right, making barrel in either direction. I wish I could have been there in order to help those locals deal with fear and anxiety, as I am here to advise and assist after surviving Hurricane Hilary off the coast of California some three weeks ago, but alas, my advising and assistance was required elsewhere.

The sun is almost poking through clouds, now, sending shivers up spines though I swing into action, telling the guests its ok. I spotted enough local aged cheddar and maple syrup on a refurbished ice box near the front desk to last until at least 11 o’clock am. After that, I would be able to lead a recon mission to the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream factory where there may or may not be free samples.

The Ben and Jerry’s ice cream factory is whimsical and silly with an expressive color palate plus three very cute holsteins grazing in a patch of green grass near the road, or that’s what I saw yesterday afternoon while driving by on the way to a bespoke coffee roaster housed in a red barn.

Through my hurricane survival experience, I have come to understand that treating people like babies is essential to hurricane survival.

“I wish there was a vaccine for climate-induced stress,” someone at a neighboring farmhouse table mutters.

“There basically is,” I respond stoically. “Ben and Jerry’s.”

100+ foot waves suddenly irrelevant.

Post tropical cyclone Lee is, currently, slamming into America’s northeaster seaboard wreaking havoc, causing major panic. Power outages are being reported in Maine, Canadians are counting their bacon and New Hampshirites are tying themselves to granite hills, screaming “live free or die” into the howl.

Wild times.

A surf journalist, who made his way from storm-tested Southern California in order to advice and assist, is currently advising and assisting Vermontettes on how to deal with troublesome light breezes. An important role that will be greatly detailed soon.

Before that, though, it must be noted that Garrett McNamara, Laird Hamilton and other big waves studs are positively drooling over a new discovery of an “extreme” star with HUGE waves.

Dubbed MACHO 80.7443.1718, obvs, the star is some 160,000 light years away from the Earth, has 35 times the mass of the sun and once a month lots of gravitational tug, like the moon our our ocean, creates MASSIVE waves on its surface.

Up to 10 percent of the star’s entire diameter making them, roughly, 4 million kilometers high.

Astrophysicist Jim Fuller of Caltech, who was not part of the study, said it “shows how complicated and interesting the dynamics get when you have an extreme system like this.”

The waves can get big enough that they actually break and crash across the brighter star’s surface, the study suggests. When an ocean wave is far from shore, it’s a rolling, undulating wave. But as it comes closer to shore, it rises and collapses on itself. “Something kind of parallel is happening here,” Morgan MacLeod of the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics says. The top of the wave steepens, “gets out of phase with the bottom, and it folds over on itself, and it crashes.”

The 4 million kilometer business puts to absolute shame the 100+ foot stuff normally being chased here on earth and you can be certain big wave surfers will be employing means available of reaching MACHO 80.7443.1718.

Kai Lenny’s jet ski etc.

HBO busily developing “4 Million Kilometer Wave.”

The small fishing village on the star readying itself for a bright spotlight.

Exciting days.

Topangry.

Those living in New England are currently breathing much easier even though Hurricane Lee is bearing down. President Joe Biden has just declared a state of emergency and I have officially arrived, ready to direct and advise. So far, a light blanket of clouds is covering the sky, in Vermont, and the temperature is a scary 68 degrees Fahrenheit. I am wandering the streets of a very cute historic town telling the Teva-clad locals not to worry. That they should horde just a little but otherwise put their favorite Phish album on the turntable, sip a little maple syrup and relax.

I’ve been through a hurricane, in Southern California, and am a survivor.

Speaking of Southern California, Topanga, just south from famous Malibu, made the hipster news today for its surf rage problem.

KCRW reported on various locals, like Donnie Wilson, a former professional who has been surfing Topanga since the 1970s. He said he’s been all over this blue earth surfing and claims, “(Topanga) the only spot in LA that gets a south and a north and a west swell, and it’s a point break. It’s one of the best waves in the world.”

Being such, though, surf rage. Wilson says he is part of the problem.

“I’ve been one of the ones guilty of [yelling] ‘get the fuck out of here kook. I’ve been cracking people since I was a kid. When I was in junior high or something, I fucking broke this dude’s nose.”

Pipeline East.

Chad White, who has been surfing Topanga for 40 years, also weighed in, declaring, “The really heavy guys are the ones that had to pay some real dues to surf here. In the 70s, it would be every time they came to surf here. They’d have to fight.”

Another nameless local shared his experience of being “fully chewed out by a Topangry 12-year-old girl, and fully got bullied into submission as a 34-year-old man who’s surfed here most of my life.”

“Topangry” being a portmanteau of “Topanga” and “angry.”

All of it fairly run-of-the-mill until Joshua Alexander enters the scene. He is black and has been surfing for two years but has already had many “racially charged” incidents in the water. He has been told to “go back to your hood” and “go back to China.”

Go back to China?

What sort of geographic weirdness is happening at Topanga?

In any case, Women have also had a rough go. Professional surfer Frankie Seely sharing, “Growing up, there was maybe one woman in the lineup as compared to like 20 guys. There’s a lot more women surfing (now). The ratio [of women] almost gets to the same as the men’s ratio in the water.”

Chad White even changes his tune at the end saying, “If you’re a local somewhere, [it] doesn’t mean that your job is to be an asshole. Maybe if you’re a local, your job is to be really helpful.”

Topanga becoming paradise on earth (minus misdirected racial slurs)?

Hope springs.