On Friday a lunchtime phone call offering a chance to surf a not so secret but very hard to access wave that I'd last surfed maybe thirty five years back was not to be sniffed at.
The winds were not quite right, with the anticipated crowds far different to those encountered when we'd sneak in through an army base risking arrest and board confiscation way back when... but I still said yes.
How was it? Not perfect, but still pretty epic. The crowd was testy, the wind was up, and most surfers were way more at ease with it even though I will guarantee I first surfed it well before many of them were born.
How did I go? Not as well as I'd have liked, and not as bad as I might have, though if I am brutally honest with myself you could say I copped a flogging but kept a smile.
It was so beautiful just to be there it was worth the submarine tours of the sandbank.
I need to go back, re-acquaint myself with the place, perhaps earn a place in the youthful lineup and learn how to pig-dog with more finesse.
Pics. Into the glare. Had no clue what I was shooting until I got home. Thanks for the ride Marky.
1 comment:
you wouldn't call it an 'isolated' place, would you ?
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