an image that just makes me want to move

Its a moment like this when it all sinks in.  You've been planning this for months.  Foregoing parties and nights out so you can spare the dollars to get you here.  That first plunge when you commit to the air ticket.  The doubt that follows.  Is it worth it?  Shouldn't I buy another board and just cruise up the coast instead.  That doubt is left behind when your board bag slides off on the conveyor at check in.  The flight is replaced by new doubt.  Will I get skunked?  It's a long way to go to sit on a beach and read a book.  Maybe collect a few shells for the girl.

You land and your boards reappear through the plastic curtains.  When you step out on the cracked pavement and into the brightness, the smells and the noise of an exotic city, you know it's for real.  Still the doubt lingers.

A few more days of orientating yourself, tasting the local beer, cramped long bus rides with locals, and their livestock and eventually you find yourself on the verge of a dusty road.  The diesel fumes disappate and the rumble of the bus is replaced by the swish of the wind in the dry grass.  In the distance, is the ocean and the sight you've come so far for.  The prize.  The reward.

Credit: Lowe-white

 
But the glimpse still hides the full truth and the doubt sits higher in your pit.  There are still hurdles to overcome before you can claim success.  Will you fail here?  The challenge is before you. 

Go and meet it.

tuesday tubes returns!

well, the only way to get back in to this is force it. 

We're relaunching tuesday tubes with one of the best in the business.  And by best in the business, I mean, he's actually turned getting barrelled into a business.  Not a bad job to have.  If you can get it.

Not all pleasure though.  A lot of hard work goes into this.  And a lot of pain.  These aren't your garden variety barrels.

Have a gander at this, and then ask yourself:  where is My eyes wont dry 4?

credits to the man himself

Twiggy and the art of balance

where do we start with Twiggy?  There's so much that he does right in and out of the water.

Something that's quite impressive, for me at least, is how well balanced he always is.  This photo is awesome, but isn't unique.  We've seen him air-drop colossal waves like this before.  He sticks them most of the time.  He shrugs when he doesn't.  That's impressive in its own right.

But something that's striking is that he always has his arms close to or by his sides.  This pic shows his trailing elbow up, but it's still only level, maybe even below his shoulder, and that's about as high up as i've ever seen it go.  His leading arm is low, down keeping that centre of gravity down near his hips or below.  He begins well balanced, and so is able to keep that balance through-out and I think that's one his secrets to being able to ride waves like this.

Of course, the real trick is keeping that control from the start.  But, you will see a lot of other guys in similar situations with arms out wide trying to find that balance.  They're a league behind.  Make no mistake, they're still right up there, but it's composure like this that allows Twig, Dorian and Greg Long to be the stand-outs when others are just trying to survive.

In a way what these guys are doing is like a very finely tuned feat of engineering.  Everything has to the just right, slight flaws here and there are magnified to the point where the whole system fails.  This begins with lining yourself up right.  No small feat.  The take-off zone is the size of a sports field and you probably have about a 10m bracket in that for a given wave.  And on the bigger days I've surfed in my life, the amount of water moving around out there is terrifying by itself.  Just something else to up the ante.

Then there's board speed.  We know this is about fitness - obviously.  But, like a swimmer will spend hours with his coach refining his stroke, I wonder if Twig and his crew do the same...  It would be interesting to hear from the man himself about this.  The fitness itself needs little explanation.  It's of a very high standard.  Need I continuea?

Then there's the boards.  A mate of mine said the other day that length is not what you want on a board.  I was about to contradict him, when I realised he's right.  What you want is volume and planing surface.  Unfortunately, the by-product of this is length.  Also, another mate of mine went down to DVG - go-to guy for guns in Cape Town to add some heat to his quiver.  He asked Dave about Twiggy riding shorter boards in bigger conditions.  Dave just shook his head.  "Don't worry about that.  That's just Twiggy."

Like I said, another league.

 photo via quirarte

the cheeky mid-weeky

There was swell, and a light wind.  So we did what we should all do.  We cancelled unimportant things.  We repriortised important things and ignored things that couldn't be made less important.

We strapped boards to the roof and flicked our sunglasses down and hit the road.  We listened to music.  We talked shit.  We bemoaned our lack of recent water time.  We slagged off mates who were being kak.  We schemed surf trips.  We chatted board design, personal fitness, and wetsuits.

We rolled into a parking lot and cursed the conditions.  We weighed up options.  Schemed a bit more.  And then decided to shut the hell up and get on with it.  Another car rolled in.  Mates rolled out.  Hi fives.  Manly hugs.  More bullshit.  And before we knew it, we were suited, lubed, waxed and ready.

As we walked round the corner at this wedgy little beach break.  And this epic set rolled in.  We got fired up.  Pulled hoodies over.  and scratched for the backline.  A duckdive later and we realised just how cold it was.  I haven't surfed the Atlantic for a while.  It was good to be back for some chill.  My holey fullsuit seemed to earned a few more holes while lying in a heap in the corner.   Still, better than a stubbed toe.

The next thing we were a bit late in realising was the current.  That same current that was sucking the barrel out and making it twice the diameter it would have been otherwise was also dragging us round the point and back to town by the time we realised it.  The pessimist would curse both circumstances.  The optimist says, hey, at least all this paddling is keeping me warm.  And fit.  The realist said, when am I going to get a wave with all this going on.

It took a while to open my account.  But once I got in tune with the what was going on, it was fine.  I steered away from the corner - strong currents, draining sandbanks, wedges - the sort of ingredients that make chiropractors and shapers happy.  I was having none of it today.

There were a few sponsored guys out.  Chris Leppan was putting his Durban pedigree to work on the bowly rights.  He managed to snap his middle fin out on a bottom turn.  Good work.  He still managed to park himself in some serious kegs with his unintended twinny.

In all, it was an ok session.  It was not easy.  I got a few cover ups.  Should have done better on a few. others, but hey. Rob reckoned he surfed like an asshole.  That's his call.  But he did come up with the best statement of the day:  "Even though I surfed like a dick, I still had a rad time."

That's stoke, right there.

We don't do Valentines day

We just go surfing.

More fun than a cuddle. credit

I won't wake you with breakfast in bed.  I'll wake you with my alarm clock and the leave you to hug to hug the duvet while I get the dawny.  You think that's cold?  Try hitting the Atlantic before sunrise.  I'll take our a long walk down the beach, but with my mates - in the only non-homoerotic way possible.  We're not about boxes of chocolates.  We're about chocolate coloured boxes draining onto filthy sand-banks. A candle lit dinner can wait.  I've got an evening glass off to think about.  It's daylight hours, and that means I can surf.  So I will.  You want me to put on a sharp suit and meet you with a bunch of flowers?  I think I look pretty damn sharp in this wetsuit here, and I'll leave the flowers on the bush that grew them.  Do you want to know what I'm think about?  It's not our relationship.  It's my relationship.  With a particular wave.  It's complicated.  And I don't want to talk about it.

It's not a special day.  It's a day invented by Nestle, Hallmark and florists.  I don't know anyone who works for them, so they can chuck.  It's the same thing year after year.  DJ's yap on about it because they have nothing better to talk about.  Shops put up pictures of hearts (more on this below).  They seem to think I should buy their stuff because they didn't get to flog it at christmas.  F*ck off - I was surfing over christmas.  Like i'm surfing now.  And the only thing I need is another board in my quiver.  And maybe a set of fins or two.  And actually, my wetsuit is pretty ropey.  Ok, so there's a bunch of stuff I need.  But none of it involves a pink ribbon, so you can keep that stuff on ice, thanks.

The 'heart' shaped image.  Seriously what does this look more like?

A human heart?  Or does it look like another part of the anatomy?  Like one that we might (yes, only might) see more often?  Unless you're a thoracic surgeon.  Turn it upside down if you're still not convinced.  Now, that that's apparent, I think I like it a bit more.  So, now you know what I'm smiling about when I cruise down the street.  Know that I'm sniggering if you have on of these in your email, you Facebook wall, or any other place where you're trying to showing endearment.  Baboons show endearment in a similar simian way.  When cats do it they're usually telling you to f*ck off.  As cats do.  So they can f*ck off themselves.

There is something that's not the same as last year.  I'm not talking about my hairline, or the sound my car is making now.  I'm talking about the surf.  It's different every year, every day of every year.  And that's why I need to be on it.  The surf doesn't have a calendar.  There's no box on a day in February that's got little hearts and stars penned in around it.  It doesn't pause and look at that day, and go: whoah, that's a special day, maybe I should give the guys a day off to pamper their missus.  No, it just carries on by itself.  Like it does during your aunt's birthday, and your cousin's welcome-home-from-jail party.  And because it doesn't care what I'm busy with, I need to pay very careful attention to it.  It just does not give a damn about the trials of my life.

You may be the best thing in my life.  But, don't get comfortable in that position.  Complacency is a bitch.  And bitches must tsek.  If there's a good sized swell running and gentle offshore somewhere on this blessed peninsula, you'll find yourself in second spot.  If only for a few hours.  The best text I receive isn't a random 'thinking of you honey', it's a random 'thinking you should get your ass in gear, it's cooking bru.'  And I can't plan things like that.  They just happen.  That means it's unscheduled me time.  You'll just have to live it.  Or find a boyfriend who plays golf.  They stick to schedules. Apparently.

You always get something

It's only ever a positive experience.  This weekend disappointed surfwise, but the blame lies with me.  I reckon there are a lot of us who had elevated expectations - a surefire way to shaft yourself.  That, and a few bad calls here and there - where to go, when to look and when to look elsewhere.  And then picking the wrong peak, the wrong wave, and surfing badly when it does come your way.  The lessons, the learning curve, and the feeling that after 3 dry weeks, I've slipped a little backwards on that curve.

But, there is much to be grateful for.  I had 4 very different sessions this weekend.  Different waves, different crowds, and a completely different vibe to each of them.

My favourite was Friday evening.  It was a last minute call out of desperation.  The thought matrix went something like this.  "I haven't surfed for a while.  I can surf now.   Therefore, I should surf.  Done." It was a very good call, as it changed my weekend.  For example, I learned then that I'd forgotten my wesuit in Cape Town.  If I learned that truth on Saturday morning, it would have been a very different weekend and would have involved a lot more profanity.  So, I managed to borrow one on Friday, and hit the 'whatever' waves on a gloomy evening with only one other desperate soul out.

There was a very nice bowly right sucking out into a rip.  The other guy wasn't interested - sitting on a bank off to the side.  It took me few minutes of fighting the current to work out why.  Good wave, yes.  But, just holding your position was the first of many challenges to riding it.  I gave up after a while and went over to join him.

It turned out to be an old friend and we chatted for a bit, mostly in reference to the wave which had beaten us.  But, about then, a squall came through as the late sun found a gap under the clouds near the near horizon.  And that's what made the session.  The golden sun on the sea, the water in the sky filling the world with a champagne light and fizz at it fell in.  At that moment, we couldn't care less about the waves, or our abilities.  There was a double rainbow that was full circle.  There was so many droplets around us that it appeared arms length.  You just wanted to reach out and spin it like on your finger like a hoop.  After that, it was only going to be a good session.

About as close as the entire internet can get to dsiplaying that moment.  Thanks, Brian Nevin

A few average waves later, my buddy called it and went in to have a braai with the family.  I stayed on ace out.  Now, after sunset, the gloom returned heavier.  It still didn't matter.  I sat and waited.  A set appeared and I just caught a spalsh of disturbance in the crest of one wave as it disappeared before then wave ahead of it. 

As I stroked over and into the trough, my thoughts were confirmed.  A pod of dolphins had arrived for a dinner and a surf on the edge of the bank.  I sat in the building darkness as hunted around me.  I could hear their echoing clicks and squeaks in the wine-dark water.  They would burst up next to me and vanish a swirl.  Aware, but indifferent.

Then, they were gone along with the last light.  I surfed a final close-out and flopped down prone to ride the foamy in.  Surfwise, awful.  On the whole, amazing.  The lesson:  there's always a positive.  After that, the rest of the weekend's misadventures didn't seem to matter.

I'm really going to see how far I can push this metaphor

So I found this old dusty blog at the back of the garage.  It under this pile of junk that I was meant to throw away but never got round to.  It looks like it's in pretty good shape, maybe not very current, but still useable.  Still workable.  Should still be loads of fun if I could only dedicate enough time to it.

I remember how it used to go.  But that was then, and this is now.  Does it really suit my purpose at the moment?  With all the distractions going on?  Should I rather be focussing on other aspects which deserve my attention more and need to make progress on?  Like the above: things I should really get round to doing.

I think the best thing for it is to take a step back and work out how I'm how going to use it and what I want from it.  If I made it my sole purpose, it would awesome.  I could work out its nuances and take it to new heights.  But, as part of a quiver of my time dedications, could I really do that?  Or should I go ahead and spend a bit on it?  Spiff it up a bit.  Smooth off some rough edges, add a bit of colour a really make it look bejouz?  It would definitely fly then.

Maybe it just needs me to find it in the right frame of mind, the right conditions.  The right place at the right time.  But, is it enough to wait for those conditions to appear.  Or do you have a hand in making them happen.  Get dialled.  Be positive.  Be focussed.  Ignore the distractions and make the right decisions to be in the right place when its on.

I think I'm going to go for that.  This blog can only be good for my writing.  It keeps me current, and who cares about the content.  It's what I want from it.  And if no-one appreciates it, that's fine too.  After all, like surfinfg, it's a personal journey.  It's about what it means for you.  And the rest of you can tsek.

(I think I'm done here.)