Infamous for his disdain of neoprene, Clay Marzo was in a predicament. “Brah, I can trunk it,” he said to the collected crew as we stared at 6-8’ offshore wind groomed tubes on what would become the day of the year at an undisclosed Baja California beachbreak. “Clay, it’s northern Baja in mid November and the water is like 59-degrees…you’re tripping!” was the reply as we zipped up our 4/3mm fullsuits with a hot, dry wind whipping up sand and debris. He gave in and began pulling on and...