Safetosea

All sorts of action in my world this weekend...

A huge weather system has sent the south and east coasts into overdrive, generating some pretty unusual media hype and a lot of spectator attendance at the better known surfspots.

Swell hitting 50ft or more in exposed locations, with unknown bombies breaking, generating comments like "the whole coast has turned into one big shorebreak".

It was rather big.

My old favourites, Bells and Winki, saw car park attendance approaching the Easter crowds, while out in the water it thinned down to the usual suspects, and even amongst those, the hell paddle out and sweep encouraged the odd few or three to try a cleaner option. I went for Cathedral Rock, just down the coast, no secret so I give nothing away, but its wind protection made it silky. Unfortunately many others had the same idea so it wasn't going to be a solo session.

At a solid six to maybe eight feet, and pretty relentless, the odd BOMB fertilised a nerve wracking affair on the paddle out. Making my run in what I thought was a lull, I ended up getting absolutely hammered, swept past the headland and down the coast, reaching clear water and the line up some 300 or more metres east of where I started.

And about ready to heave. All the way I was saying to myself, 'you stupid old fart, vomit, why do you put yourself, vomit vomit, in these positions?'

A shakey starter wave under my belt, plus a little patience saw me get the best wave I've ever had out there. Easy three times overhead and 200 metres to play with. Unfortunately I can't show you a picture yet, there is one, but Ed Sloane, the photographer, has embargoed me, so you'll have to believe Pinocchio. Suffice to say it was long and big, and I didn't feel like a dill.

Hmm. Long and big. That certainly is Pinocchio country.

Moving right along...The rest of the session had mixed rewards. The good, the bad, the very ugly. Ugly in that I had to climb up the leg rope from black depths more than once. Oh what fun.

Come Sunday I had bragging rights on Radio Marinara, as I'd been asked to go in and talk about movies, blogging and what else is on in my little world. In a few days you can listen to it via podcast if you're vaguely interested, and will post a link come that day. It actually does make a good listen, as the regular hosts in Dr Beach, Dr Surf, and the lovely Bron, make nitwits like me appear to know and say things interesting.

The other highpoint was a Skype call with Beelzebub, his Satanic Majesty My Darling Tommy, looking dishevelled and skaterish, as you would expect.

A brush, a brush, my kingdom for a brush.!

Well, you can see why Shakespeare re wrote that line.

"Oh by the way Dad, my passport got stolen."

Good of you to tell me Tom.

Another bloody headache.

Pics; The smaller ones shot by my happy snapper, and old fat boy (I've since had a shave} with Bron and the almost totally anonymous team at 3RRR Radio Marinara. (Dr Surf tells me if his boss works out exactly who is taking all those days off to surf he's in a lot of strife)