Airport Envy

passport - check.  ticket - check.  hangover - check.  leaving packing till the last minute - check.  needless blog update - in progress.

So, in a few hours I will be turning the key in the door and heading off to the aewoplane.  Exciting stuff.  Airports are weird places and are ideal for people watching.  So many destinations, so many reasons to go there.  There's always such a spread of people.  Business types who are nonchalant to sullen.  Young excited kids scoping out the big machines and welcoming a distant family member with the tantalising potential of a present.  Bored chaffeurs.  Hot women going somewhere to be hot.  School sports teams suppressing their exuberance of being on tour.  Standard holiday makers, prepared yet anxious.  And surfers.

Fortunately, our brethren can be spotted easily.  Standard attire and a coffin brimming with hardware.  Awesome. I dig seeing our kind off on that rite of passage.  The palpable stoke.  The hurry and get these boards in the hold and put in that seat with a beer and get this plane in the sky on that tropical runway look they have in their eye.  I'm always jealous.  I always want to know where they're going and would love to hear if they score.  Still, there's that spiteful corner in me that wishes they will get skunked. 

Bastards.  I hope you snap every board and have to watch perfect surf go by unridden.  and malaria.

 So, yet again I'll be admitting that I'm not carrying anything sharp, while looking over wistfully at the oversized baggage counter and muttering to myself.  For the record, the forecarst for Finland, is pleasant and in the single digits, and no windslop being driven in off the Baltic.  Does this count as a skunking?  It always feels like it.

And I hope none of you score while I'm away.

it's not that cold...

Check this little gem out:

There's some bad news abou it though.  It's breaking over and ice shelf on the tip of a 'berg, so its not around anymore.  That's the first problem. You can probably imagine the other problems attached to it from that, so we won't bother going into them.

More interesting is where I found this picture.  It comes from this website called Artic Surf.  Written by a guy who presumably had a bad experience with boardshorts when he was young and has developed a rubber fetish as a consquence.  There's some pretty cool stuff in there.  Check out the remote cams.  It's got the worlds most recorded, least ridden, perfect right point.

Jokes aside, this guy is taking it back a century when polar exploration was all the rage.  I reckon with efforts like this, it may be again soon.

Incidentally, I'm off to the far North tomorrow for a little excursion to Finland.  I'm attending a wedding there which I'm told is like a cross between a gypsy wedding, an Indian wedding and an Irish funeral.

I'm also hoping to hook up with some local surfers, so I may have something interesting to report on soon.  But, if not, man it's going to be a long time between waves.

Also check out: the surfbird some pretty cool stuff there.

somewhere over the horizon

something we'd all love to see one day.  I'm sure everyone imagines themselves lying on a bunk somewhere below decks, when a shout from above brings you to your feet.  As you climb the steep steps to upwards, you can feel the excitement bubbling.  And you turn to see this over the rail, silently spinning off and beckoning.

It's happening out there somewhere right now.

It's just not happening right here, right now...

not-so-perfect Friday

Yesterday was a sad day for many surfers in the Cape.  A vicious fatal shark attack took place at Koeel Bay, a place I know well and have spent many great sessions at.  I'm not going to say to much on it here.  I have my opinions on the sharks, on cage diving, on the Shark Men who are here doing research at the moment, but am saving those for other channels.

It's horrible news for all of us.  Death never sits easy, but in the jaws of a wild creature it strikes deep within us.  A primal fear. 

The most curious reaction has not so much been the grief, but the anger and blame.  A curious human trait we harbour.  It has to be someone's fault, least of all our own. 

I try and focus on good vibes here.  And, that should continue.  Let's hope the victim enjoyed one last great wave before going to the big reef in the sky.

via aquabumps

Summer, seriously now...

Really?

While the rest of the country is like yay, it's still summer.  we can play outside and sip white wine on the patio and stuff like that, there are some of us in a huff.  Like farmers.  They need rain.  And surfers.  We just need deep ocean groundswell.  Is that too unfair to ask for?  Surely, you've had your time in the sun and it's our time now.  Bring on winter!

But, until winter arrives, let's appreciate some of the good things that summer does offer us. Because... well, just because we should:

No, stuff like that...does not happen in winter.

Unridden, with good reason

 

From West Oz.  Somewhere.  Don't know where and not really that anxious to find out.  I have plenty other waves to surf before I intend to be snapped in half.  

Yet, I think the greatest pity about this shot is there's no sense of scale.  Any guesses?  6 ft? 12 ft?  could be anywhere in between that.  We know its not small, and not colossal.  And heavy.  And I guess that's enough to scare the bejezus out of most of us.  

Still, I bet every single one of you pictures yourself standing there with a grin as wide as that pit on your smug mug.   Hopefully that smile lasts longer than the situation that allows it.

Picture by the maestro that is Russell Ord

Tuesday tubes: calmly slotted and P-pass envy

You know you're doing well when you can park off so casually in the barrel.  It's been said that the best guys make it look easy because they dont force anything.  Like Ika Ika here.  He's so good they named him twice. 

The photo comes from the Pohnpei Surf Club's blog.  And if you want to grow man-size tears into your keyboard, go take a look.  It's mostly shots like this from P-pass.  Captions are usually: Yeah, this guy got this wave.  But, there's like no-one else here now.  It's just him and his wife and the staff.  Then every now and then they're like:  Oh, it's flat at the moment.  So we went fishing.  And trekked to this waterfall. 

Pohnpei is over in Micronesia and so we don't get to hear too much about it on this side of the globe.  I don't recall seeing it pictured in a local mag, much less have I seen any local riders on it.  But, seriously: just look at it.  It's perfect - and I mean like not a drop out of place perfect from waist high to triple overhead.  And before you get back to work and start saving:  here's another pic if you're still not convinced.

Bastard.  I'm sure he's a real nice guy, but I dont care.  He's still a bastard as far as I'm concerned.

Monday beatdown: Me

I'll wear it this Monday. 

First up, before you label me a lay about surf bum, I worked both Saturday and yesterday, so I felt entitled to a cheeky Monday morning session to ease in the first real working week this country has had to endure in a while.

We checked the usual spots before rolling into Queens - the most exposed of our local reefs.  I usually don't name it, but please come along next time.  The place wants a crowd.  To molest.

It was pretty big.  Rob was sure he wanted his 8'5".  I reminded him that there was probably going to be some duck-diving involved.  We opted for 7'2 and 7"4 respectively.

A few moments later we were standing on the jump off rock.  There were some nice gaps in the sets so I just went for it.  Now, or never I guess.

A few moments later we were both back on the jump off rock.  Guess, it was never on that go.  Rob had watched me flounder, get pummelled and eventually turn back to get washed through the cove.  The problem - one of the problems - was that with a lowish tide, you're more leopard crawling through the kelp than paddling over it.  It's not very conducive to making a quick dash for the backline.

So, round two.  On the stroll back I'd seen there were good gaps in the sets, there were also times of continuous sets.  Rob jumped in first.  I'd learned my lesson from my first adventure and watched him suffer similarly while also keeping an eye out for a gap.  Eventually, one came and vaulted in - a good few metres ahead of my buddy.  I'd almost crawled out of the forest when a small set came through.  I duckdived the semi-gun deeply into the kelp, which is to say, not deep at all.

It was one of those amazingly badly timed efforts when you feel the full force of the wave coming down on you.  I got spun proper but managed to hang on to my board before it smacked me in the face.  I came up, regathered my board, managed to push through the next one and got clear.  Pat-pat.  Well done.

Now on the inside channel, you've still got to paddle round the peak to go sit on the left breaking reef.  I had no idea where Rob was at this stage.  A few gentler strokes later and I saw the a wave looming up ahead.  Ah, I see.  The current is dragging me across the peak.  No problem.  I got over it fine.  The next loomed even bigger.  I just made it and looked back to see Rob way deeper and throw board but both incredibly made it through unscathed.

We sat in the channel and recovered ourselves, and chatted about the experience of getting to the backline.  "Ja, and my board smacked me in the face."  I said. "Ja, it's bleeding."  Said Rob.  Queens draws first blood - again.  It's the second time this wave has made me bleed.  And I don't have much to show for it either.

So, we sat and watched. And watched.  And mused. And repositionedourselves.  And chatted more earnestedly.  And then decided we were being a bit silly out there.

A few things about Queens:  It has 3 reefs - the inner, the middle and the outer.  I think it was the outer reef today.  The inner reef is quite fun - take off right in that channel I was battling in earlier and get flicked right into this fun little bowel.  The middle reef is mildly murderous and the outer reef is a big wave spot in a similar mold to Outer Kom.  It may not handle as much size, but then I don't think anyone's cared to gauge it.  You, see it's not so much the wave that you fall that's the problem although it's thick and packs an amazing amount of punch.  Apart from sapping my vital fluids, this place has also snapped a board whilst in my fingers.  Yet, the real problem is it breaks incredibly close to the rocks and if you don't make it you are getting washed over and through them.  It's not a pleasant prospect.  Ask Ryan Payne.  

I'm not sure after which Queen it was named, but I doubt it was one of the more gentle ones, like Elizabeth II, or Freddy Mercury.  Actually, no, he was pretty savage.  I reckon it was more along the lines of Bloody Mary, or Infanta, though.

Anyway, tail firmly between our legs we paddled around to the next sheltered beach and existed calmly there.  "You could paddle a gun out here."  said Rob.  "And do what with it then?" I asked.  Rob shrugged.  "True."

We called it a successful defeat and opted to stay suited and head down to Solly's which is less life-shortening than Her Highness.  We scored a few fun ones there, but those death sets kept baring their fangs at us from the horizon - taunting us and daring us to come closer.

watching it go by

There was a lot of this sort of thing happening over the last few days.  Shifty beach breaks.  A short period swell with scattered peaks.  Currents and winds carrying you quietly.  Trying to line up a moving target. 

So, often we would sit and watch a peak slide past unridden.  It reaches that tipping point slowly, silently, but beyond that the pace of change comes with a crash. We'd gaze over our shoulders and curse a foregone wave before projecting overselves into that space and watching idea of ourselves surf an untainted wave.  Fleeting moments passing only in our minds.  The imagined fantasy of what we would be like if we could see the future and make our present from it.  Then, just like that wave gone by, we return to the reality, and make it happen for ourselves in substance.

Pic by Ed Sloane, via grindtv

Easter kegs, and other highlights

gloom, storms, and stoke

Starting last week Thursday and ending yesterday, I don't think I've surfed so hard since my last trip to Indo - and that was five years ago.  Three days with two sessions, and the single session days the last two as our bodies caved in.  We clocked up a lot of water time.

Without dragging out all the details, here is the highlights package:

New wetsuit:  splurged out and bought myself an Excel Infiniti Drylock.  This purchase is about a year overdue.  I used my old suit till it is fucked, then went back to an even older suit, till it was fucked, then came back to the first suit till it was really, really fucked.  it looks like it's been left out in the yard for the dog to chew.  The new one cost a prett penny, but if you're in Cape Town, and surf the Atlantic, I recommend spending top dollar on a proper suit.  More water time, better performance - it all adds up to better surfing.  If you sit still for a bit, it gets piss-warm inside - even if you aren't pissing on yourself.  I bought mine from Lifestyle down in Muizenberg.  They have a good range and good crew to help you make the right choice.

Big shut down barrel at a nearby beachy:  My backhand late drops are fine.  My frontside, not so much.  So I was very stoked to lock in to a set wave a thread it till it shut down hard into the sand bank.  Next time: spat out on similar wave.

Returning to an old reef:  I used to surf this ledgy right back in my bodyboarding days.  I haven't had the nuts to go back since I started standing up.  I was good to give it a go and do quite well.  We arrived on the pushing tide and it was a bit high for the spot, but it meant the crew of spongers was leaving and left only four of us stand-ups in the water.  We traded waves and had a good banter until it switched off entirely.  Not the most epic session, but easily the best vibe.

Suiting up and paddling out in the driving rain:  Life is just better in a wetsuit.  When you're soaked through in the parking lot and it's raining so hard at the backline you can't make out the contours on the approaching set.  It's a special feeling reserved for surfers and a few other outdoor persuits.  I took a moment to reflect on the fluffy summer days we spent at the same spot and the different nature of it in a winter storm.

Being the last out:  Waiting for a wave in at dusk, and still waiting for that wave on dark.  Just me and Rob and the approaching night.  Eventually calling the next one as a family wave and getting a close up perspective of the shadow of your pal gliding across the wall.  Desuiting in the abandoned parking lot, and necking OBs while still fully suited, the drizzle washing the salt on your lips into the sweet sherry.  I've been waiting a long time for that.

Riding a fish at size:  Taking my 5'9" wafer-fish into some serious surf and actually doing OK.  I really need to buy keel fins for it, but the twin set up with Sca 5's worked - sort of.  I managed a few late drops and locked into a mega barrel with it on the local beachy.  Yesterday, I surfed it a point - a wave that's ideal for a fish, once you've made the take-off.  It's something I've wanted to do for a while and finally had the confidence for it.  I did alright, and the photos are from the session.  It's quite a feeling putting your biggest leash on your smallest board.  The photos are from that session.

lining up for a barrel that wouldn't come

Solo session:  The other reason I was amped to take the fish out was that there were no other takers that day.  Just me and a pod of dolphins.  Rob's shoulder had packed in so he was on camera duty.  Not perfect waves, but so much fun challenging them a board too small, and fins too few.

The feeling of being surfed out:  We had a braai on Friday night and had a few drinks on Saturday, including the OB's.  Apart from that it was a really dry weekend as far as boozing goes.  Every night we eased tired lmbs into bed early, and every mornning stiff bodies would get crowbarred out, down some coffee and a shake, and slide into a still damp, chilly wetsuit.  The stuff of dreams, really.

It's good for you: Over the falls

1st in a new series of those unpleasant experiences that make you a better person.

I got pitched on Friday.  Not quite like this guy, but it was solid one.

via these guys.  Not sure who that is, but the wave has to be Chopes

It's a dredging left nearby.  It's been called the cold water Bingin, but it's a bit meatier, and not nearly as clean.  There's a tight local crew as well, so I couldn't believe my luck when I showed up to big 4-5 sets pulling through with only one other guy suiting up for an empty line-up.  The swell was a bit messy, but that was pretty much the only thing wrong with it.  I snagged a few good ones.  I stacked a few late drops, but managed to stick two very rude ones a got nice pits for my efforts.  I also got worked over, properly.

I'd made the first section, and was lining up for the second one which was looking to pitch.  I went high to come back down with speed.  I'm not sure if it was the wave or my foot placing, but I stayed high, watched the trough suck out and the lip curl out under my feet and got flung.  I managed to twist mid air and landed on my back and was waiting for hardness below to meet me.  It didn't happen amazingly.  Somehow, my back fin managed to poke me on my hip and then my board spun on its axis and it tore a new hole in suit.  Not that you would notice, unless you know the holes in it as well as I do.  I surfaced and the board was still poking me as it forced itself up into my hip - a bit too close to my nuts for comfort.  I got off lightly I reckon.  And, I paid a few more dues in doing so.  A few waves later I managed to set a clean rail in a bomb and got flung out clean the other side.  It's all worth it.

Happy 4/5s of a Monday, folks.  Another short week followed by an equally long weekend.  And there's plenty going on:  Bells contest kicks off tomorrow, and then it's Easter.  And have you seen the forecast?  Hells yes!  It's going to crank.  Not sure how much i'll be updating this over the next while but when i manage there will hopefully be tales of daring do, savage beatings, hell sets and perhaps even a request for replacment boards.

Roll on winter!