A long weekend has just passed and I've caught my first cold in 18 months or more. Given Victoria is the Swine Flu Capital oink of the world now I should be oink grateful for small mercies oink.
That didn't deter me though from a splash, and as I headed for a desperate on Saturday, the swell being minimal, but the winds favourable, I took my finless option down and decided fun was the only route to joy when it could be flat.
Surprisingly, it wasn't too bad, and though I had only an hour it was quite successful.
So much so that Sunday saw another enthused dash seawards, the swell a little better and the tide doing it right for Little Rincon, that part of Bells that becomes a very good little point break at high tide.
So three hours or more of finless fun, and I'm now making waves all the way through, getting drive, making sections and feeling more and more like I'm not a complete pretender. The spin still elusive, but my baby steps are now moving beyond toddler, though still consistent surprise dunkings keep me far more edge aware than normal. It is a subtle art.
A varied selection of craft out there too, with stand up paddlers, longboards, fish, quads, Maurice on an asymmetric experiment, finless me as well as Bruce from North Carolina having his first surf at Bells.
It was a good day.
Yesterday, despite the public holiday, I worked and sniffed, oink. The evening was endurance personified as Tom was in the mood from hell.
Sometimes I think he was brewed, not born.
Pics today, said Rincon, and two more T's, some fun with a fin and another that rose from a doodle.