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.
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.
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