The conditions; light offshore, 3 - 4ft of swell, bright blue skies (25 degrees C). For those unfamiliar with UK surf, getting this trifecta is unreasonably rare. If the surf's up, it's often accompanied by light drizzle. If the weather's perfect the ocean looks like your local pool. We lucked out. Even more so that this combination fell on a Saturday so that the weekend warriors could enjoy it.
Although it had been at least five years or more since I'd had been back when there was good surf in the UK we fell straight into the pattern we used to repeat throughout Uni. and beyond when conditions were good (more often than you'd expect). It goes something like this;
- Wake at dawn. Even though you are definitely going because you've made the mental commitment to head to the beach, you still check the wave buoys and wind forecast one last time.
- Travel down an increasingly narrowing set of roads, from three lane motorway, to dual carriageway, down to single lane, unpaved track. The countryside opening up around you in a patchwork quilt of different coloured meadows.
- Arrive, in dribs and drabs, at a pre-determined meeting point. Check the surf; often involving a hike of varying heftiness to get sight of the ocean.
- Run back up the hill as the adrenaline kicks in. Get changed in record time.
- Throughout the session catch up on news, call each other into waves, laugh at the inevitable wipe outs or mild crunchings that your mates go through, chat like it was only yesterday that you saw each other rather than a few weeks or years.
- Surf until either Option (a), you are too cold to move; (b) you are too tired to move [options often depend on season, (a) for Autumn / Winter, (b) for Spring / Summer].
- Re-fuel. Eat. Then eat some more. On this trip it was a Cornish pasty (x2), a litre of water, a Mars Bar, and an oat flap jack.
- Chat, catch up on life, rest. Make a decision on where to go next. In this case it was a spot that I hadn't been to for a long while so it took some finding.
- Tramp along a path with all your gear on your back for 30 minutes to find a little gem of a reef break that's rarely surfed because of its remoteness.
- Drag on a wet wetsuit, all the time repeating the mantra, "a wet wetsuit warms-up quicker" as the cold dankness of it slowly touches every part of you as you drag it up your body.
- Surf until, either (a).... you know the drill on this one.
- Crawl out, desperately trying to make sure that in your exhausted state you don't get mangled in the shore-break.
- Walk back 30 minutes to the car, chatting about the session and the waves you caught. In this case an amazing day and some much needed support from mates in a really difficult time.
- Slowly pack the car and say final goodbyes before heading off in various and different directions towards lives that exist in different parts of the country or world but remain always connected.
- On the journey home drive with the window down, letting the warm air filter past you, surrounding yourself with nothing more than the low buzz of a travelling car and the occasional zip-zip of vehicles heading in the other direction. Reflecting on what an awesome day it's been.
Moreover, and more importantly, at a time when things have been incredibly hard it was great to know that these fantastic moments can still exist and continue even when things are so difficult. It's been a regular boost when looking back.






2 comments:
I like your writing, although literally living next to the sea, I reckon its not quite as fickle as you describe. There's a lot of perfect days that go unridden.
Thanks Howard! Good to know there's plenty of good days. When I lived in the UK people never believed me when I said it was possible to surf at least every two out of four weekends (Summer excepted). Often more frequently than that.
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