It's been a couple years since I played this gag, and I've meant to do it again for some time now...

This is a method to beat the tiny surf of the flat summer months. The first time I did it was during a clear summer day at Rincon, with miniscule swell and a hearty crew of bored men on long boards. This time I hit that paragon of beginners' surfing called Cowells. It was Sunday, April 27, 2008. All photos in this column were snapped by my good friend and world-traveling surf bud Mike Malwaukie.

Cowells in summer is a sight and experience unto itself. With warm sunny weather and low tide the place becomes a city in the sea for several hours. All manner of folk come to surf, men, women, boys and girls. Surf schools are in session, and even disabled folks get a turn with the help of volunteers. Entire families arrive with Mom and Pop escorting kids of all ages into the water for a try at the great sport of surfing. All this, and the waves that struggled to reach shin high on this sunny Sunday in April. What's a surfer to do?

Well, one answer is to get small. With teeny waves, you just have to reduce your altitude to compensate. At a height of only one foot, shin high waves are overhead. What looks to be mere ripples in the ocean become rippable waves for the midget surfer.

So the first step is to think midget thoughts, and transform from an altitude of 5 feet and 10 inches to only 12 inches. And don't forget to bring the surfboard along for the reduction in length! Next step is to wade into the shallow waters of Cowells, and paddle to the lineup. It's a bit intimidating being surrounded by legions of giants riding boards that might as well be Sequoia trees. Any close encounters will certainly be bad news. To paraphrase Dale Wasserman in Man of La Mancha: whether the tiny surfer hits the giant surfer, or the giant surfer hits the tiny surfer, it's going to be bad for the tiny surfer.

But it's all good. The mellow crowd takes care to avoid me in the surf zone, and I certainly exercise extreme caution too. After all, this is for sport and recreation, and injuries aren't any fun at all. So I ride some waves on the inside, a few on the outside. I go left, I go right. Meantime, Mike is on shore snapping the action for the images that illustrate this column. He decided not to go small, but to play photographer. Seems the late night hard drinking party of Saturday evening has left him a bit less that willing to surf on Sunday morning.

After an hour or so, the session is over. Already the tide has turned, and the Pacific Ocean and the Monterey Bay are filling the cove at Cowells with more salty water than the swell can support. It's time to get back to the usual height, so I exit the water and jump to the starting altitude of 5 feet and 10 inches. Better bring the board back from the small size too.

The tiny surfer is a real conversation starter, and many folks in the water and along the shore want to know all about my trick. Many are tempted to try it themselves, but none go so far as to actually jump into one-foot stature. Maybe with the passing months of summer and the paucity of real waves they will give it a go. But for now, there's only one who shrinks with the waves, and that's the DogMan.

This gag is certain to make a reappearance in these chronicles at some time in the future. Stay tuned for all of DogMan's adventures, tall tales, exaggerations, lies, and figments of imagination.

CU Out There,

DogMan