White Shires


The swell forecast had me frothing at my desk all day.  As the day wore on reports were rolling in of building swell, some epic waves, bigger and better than expected. Southwesterly winds meant sheltered spots were the best bet, but the wind was light anyway.  By 5.00pm reports of over 50 in on the world's best known secret spot meant I was having reservations about the potential shit fight in the line up.  We headed a a bit further up the line.
As I looked down from the top of the dunes I could not believe my eyes, beautiful clean waves and only one guy in. 
Then a set rolled through, hmmm. 
Now I like a challenge but this required some gentle persuasion from Greenstick. Ok, fine. But I must admit I had butterflies as I was getting changed.
Paddling out, even the little ones had punch, waited a few out on the inside and during a lull paddled out to the middle bank. The side sweep was like a conveyor heading north.  Several rolls later and I was past the middle bank. Only the monster sets on the outer bank to navigate. From up top this looked achievable as the lulls looked long enough. 
Wrong.
A set reared up, oh fuck. I was so nearly there, my mantra kicked in 'don'tbreakdon'tbreakdon'tbreak.'
It broke.
Mega deep breath AND roll. Board instantly ripped out of my hands, got it back just in time to take the next one, even bigger, on the head, and washed back to the middle bank. Bollocks. Tugged back far enough that by the time that set had passed and I've paddled back to the furthest bank the next set has arrived. After several more roll, scrabble, paddle efforts and 20 minutes of solid paddling, I'm fucked. The final straw was climbing my leash back to the surface, water on the lung. So, tail between my legs, I make my way back to shore. Even copped a pounding trying to get a broken wave in on my belly it was just so damn big.
So lesson learnt...when it looks huge and there's no one in there's a reason for that.
Got to shore just in time to see my man take off on a bomb, looked like he wasn't going to make the drop, he was right at the top as it began feathering, next thing he's shooting across the face, it's double overhead+. 
Hoots from the beach, yeeewww! (with only a touch of envy).
So, not a productive surf session, wave count 0, but glad I tried.The third guy in couldn't get out back either, that made me feel better.  Success would've meant epic massive waves shared only with two others. 
Next time.
This does not do it justice - shitty iphone pic!

3 comments:

  1. Hi!
    This made me smile cos it's pretty much a perfect description of my last time out in the Hebs before moving dawwn saaf for the winter... now I've just got barnacle-encrusted harbour walls to contend with. But thanks, great wee blog and great writing!

    S

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks for your comments! Hope wherever you've moved you're getting some good waves, on the plus side I guess it means less neoprene!

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