Ocean Beach in San Francisco has been decimated by erosion. Sand dunes turn to sheer drop offs. Locals go crazy, as the beach gets closed off to the public. That's when the Sunsetters emerge, to fight City Council to preserve their sacred playground. Follow a grief-stricken surfer in his fight to avenge his dying surfspot and make peace with his brother's untimely death from cancer. "I started having my nightmares again. The cruel scepter of the dreamworld gone sour punished my attempts to slumber. I had the one about Andy. We are young in it. We are both standing on the beach in Alabama somewhere. Darkness rolls over us as we shiver from having no shirts just shorts. We run over the dunes to find our path blocked by rising water. It crawls towards us as we turn back towards the ocean. There is an eclipse. The sun lies behind the moon in exact blackness outlined only by shadow. We are out of breath. We near the shore and see a sailboat in the distance. We wave and jump in hopes they will rescue us from the flood. They head out to sea and disappear as the rain falls harder. Andy is panicking. I tell him to relax. We just need a way out. The waves grow bigger as the eye of the storm spins over our heads. Andy screams at me for directions. Where do we go? What do we do? I look down at my feet. They are bleeding. We are standing on oyster beds. We are in blood drenched knee deep water. The sharks circle.The wind howls. Waves are hitting my chest now. I struggle to move but fall to my knees. My back is to the ocean. I turn and see Andy. A giant wave consumes us. It rises quickly to great heights before crashing with back breaking force. I feel myself go under. I cannot find up. I swim for what feels like hours before reaching the surface. I blackout like the sun. I wake up on the beach. The good news is Andy is laid out facing away from me a few feet away. I rush over calling his name and hear nothing. I yank him over. He's dead. His face is colored the death shade blue. A gentle foam seeps from his mouth. I call out for help. I try to breath life back into him. I run for the dunes screaming for anyone. I round the top of the first dune after slipping up its face. I gasp for air. The land is gone. I am on an island of despair. Everything around me is underwater. I rush back to find Andy. He is gone. I see more waves coming. I bury my face in my hands in desperate prayer. They crash into me anyway. I usually wake up flailing and moaning. I was shackled to misery. It wore a filthy ring around my neck. I scrubbed around the chains instead of shrugging them off. I let that yoke of pain cripple me. I bore that burden once before. It was put on me the day God took Andy away. Andy started coughing. He didn't stop until his last breath left his body. There was nothing I could do to give it back. He was taken from me. My parents adopted him to upstage me, their star disappointment. They tried to drive wedges between us but we were inseparable. Every time we went to Panama City we rented surf boards. Andy was a natural. I struggled to keep up. I never thought those golden days would end. My memories of the waves and sunsets we shared power me through the tough times. They take something out of me when I picture his face. He was just a kid. Cancer didn't care. The surfing I found at Ocean Beach saved my life. I knew I owed this place everything for giving me those magical rides. I look for Andy out there when the tide is high. I feel him pass me by when I'm on a long ride and the sun is shining. I try to remind myself we will surf again one day. I try to imagine the shores up there where he rides. I hope they are gentle and steep. Andy liked the fast drops. I pray they cradle him. I know he's waiting for me up there. Sometimes I see him with his back to me, facing the water. I call his name. He waves and gets on his board. He paddles away and the sun takes him back. I chase after him but he laughs and tells me "Someday, bro...Someday.