It's another bloody week and I better put something in this space.
On the way down on Sunday for a splash I nearly crashed as I passed through Geelong as some wag had mixed around the letters on the little Uniting Church in Grovedale.
Instead of God Loves You or Jesus Saves, the clever dick had fiddled 'round and God Loves Deep Anal greeted the passers by as the poor parishioners filed into Church. It was gone as I drove home but I must admit to a few tears of laughter as I headed towards Torquay.
The weekends waves were a mixed affair. Nice, but inconsistent 3-4foot waves on the Surf Coast and my session at Bells on Sunday was a little marred by a group of guys on longboards who all paddled out together and then took turns on the few waves coming in... to the detriment of every other surfer in the water.
I couldn't be bothered with all of that so paddled up to Rincon where I eventually got a long and passable one, didn't go all the way through but it was ok. Then back to the Bowl and snagged a couple that were, well one that was ok, where I actually felt good, but it's been a while since I had a good go at it and what with the bung leg I've got more excuses than I usually have and I've usually got a few.
Out in the water too, was Damien Hardman, former very low key World Champ, who between ripping the top right off a few waves, was pushing his daughter into the odd insider.
My board this day was an asymmetrical 6'2" creation of Maurice Cole's. He loaned his to me to try out and I'd like to try more. He's full of surprises that lad.
And picture for the day is Back to the Banyaks. This was forwarded to me recently and comprises the entire motley band of Old Farts, with the oldest of them all in a borrowed pair of shorts and my favourite rag of a T, on the extreme right. Last Day. Wish We Were There.