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.

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!

That fine line

Ok.  Look at Ry Craike over there and imagine his life about then.  Ry surfs goofy, so I'm not sure how he got himself in that position.  Maybe he took off switch foot.  Maybe he did not.  Any way, he's about to take it.  Hard.

Anyway, ignore him.  Just pretend he's not in the picture.  Now look at the wave.  Now look back.  Imagine you on that wave.  How sick would that be. Very sick.  That much.

Now imagine you are Ry and you could be screaming down that face, but you're not.  Instead you're just screaming.  And you wish you weren't because you're going to need fully inflated lungs in the next few moments.

That's the fine line.

Pic by Andy Foxx from this guy.

When you're just too late...

When all the bravery and commitment just don't make the slightest difference.  If you're not on it - it's on you:

Unidentified, in a moment he'd probably like to forget, but never will

 I'd actually love to know what happens next.  He could either punch into the trough and go very deep, which would be good.  He'd get a solid working, but most of the energy would be above him.  Or he could get sucked up and come back down for another grinding.  Given his complete lack of control in the dive, his wetsuit for a bit of added bouyancy, and size of the wave, I reckon the 2nd option is more likely.  Oh, the tears.

Via Word of Life Worship Centre, which seems appropriate, seeing as our guy here is about to experience the wrath of God.

A fine line

The fine line between never having felt more alive, and thinking you may already be dead.

Thiago Candelot, and Jaws

Thanks MSW and Mike Neal for the photo.  And there's a video of it here, if you dare.

Happy Monday, now do some work before the swell hits.

Don't laugh

Kobi Graham, Ours

Seriously, don't laugh.

The point of Monday beatings is to have a bit of a laugh at someone elses misfortune.  And this shot fits the bill when I stumbled over it. 

Then learned that the guy broke his neck on this.  Ja, not so funny anymore.

The good news is Kobi, a lifeguard at Bondi Beach, is back in the water and stoked to be surfing again.  The story could have ended very differently, but his mates were on scene and knew what to do with him - actions that saved his life, and kept him out of a wheelchair.

I've been in the water while a guy broke his back.  I've pulled coral out of a mate's head in Indo.  We later learned his skull had shifted on his spine - a close call and luckily he came out of it with a few scars and fair sized chiro bill.  I did a First-Aid course recently where we focussed on spinal injuries.  I'm obviously going to to punt it and encourage you all to do something like it - it could make all the difference.  I will say this though:  When you're practising and you're cradling someone's head in your hands, you hope to God that you never have to do it for real. 

Lunes Madrazo

Like cruising through Latin America, getting jumped by some banditos and having the shit kicked out of you.

Bueos dias, muchachos!

I went to Puerto a few years back.  Which 'Puerto' you ask? The one that doesn't need a second name - it's that hardcore.  I was there out of season.  Which I was disappointed by and thankful for at the same time.  It did get to about 4 foot one day and that was interesting enough. 

By all the Catholic saints, that place hits hard.  Swell comes uniterrupted from which ever other side of the Pacific is throwing out swell.  So, its a very long period.  Offshore is a deep water canyon which means there's no energy lost before it slams into the sand bank.  And when I say sandbank - there isn't too much sand left on it as most of it is kicked up and held in suspension.  This means two things - neither of them good.  1.  The water is heavier, with all the sand in it.  2.  It isnt so much a sand bank as a gravel patch - those bits too heavy to be scoured.  So, instead - you get scoured, properly.

I hate to think what this guys about to go through

In Spanish speaking countries, they don't appreciate the notion of a man confident enough to wear pink.  Unknown at Mex Pipe.

Thanks to MSW and RpmSurfer.  Check 'em out for some more Puerto action and some steamy senoritas.
And an extra muchas gracias to my scandatina/latinavian missus for the title.

.A bit of Mavs for your Monday

In trawling the web, for aquatic assault, the usual suspects come up quite frequently.  If the police had to do a line up of waves responsible, you could imagine these thugs standing shoulder to shoulder, trying to look guilty, not giving a damn.  You can guess who they are.  They are the waves you probably, deep down, want to surf the most.  They're the outlaws of waves - the badboys that we're supposed to be scared of, but secretly want.  Here's another mobster about to do want he does best. 

Ion Banner, opening heat at last year's Mavericks contest

Pic lifted from Chemistry Surfboards.  They were quite proud of their boards being ridden by Ion that day.  So what was Bertish riding and where can I get one?

Eating it

Sometimes a good beating is just what you need.  Eating is not cheating, but a beating is eating.  It's good for you.

Marco Polo, Waimea shorbreak

For the second week in a row, Waimea claims the title of Time Between Waves weekly beatdowner.  This time the shorey which was many a booger's dream, including mine when we were growing up.  This image, and sequence is a bit of a classic from the mid nineties.  I can remember seeing this sequence in a surf mag as a grom the caption went something along the lines of:  "In the 13th century, Marco Polo, a Venetian, travelled to China and discovered spagetti.  In the 20th century, Marco Polo, a Brazilian, went to Waimea and ate it."

I love the way has has absolutely no chance, but he's so committed.

Pic lifted from here.

Monday Beatdown

That moment when you know you're not going to make it.  And your only thought is: How bad is this going to be?

Flea, practising his warm water pin drop at not-small Waimeia.  I'm sure he's no stranger to amazing beatings, having surfed Mavs for most of his life.  But a beating is still a beating.

As envious as we may be of the hellmen, we must remember that it's not all big drops into perfectly arced hi speed bottom turns.  there's a lot of pain involved.  The road to big wave stardom is paved with near drowning experiences.  that's why you've to really want.  Flea - even in that moment up there - really wants it.

Pic from here. Image by Jeremiah Klein.

Monday Beat-down

And you thought you had a rough weekend.

 

Rudi Schwartz, Shippies - of course.  photo: andrew chisholm

Check out the full sequence here.  Its guaranteed to make you wince.