Friday, 5 June 2009

Surf...

Wish I could say that surf was, "like the buses..."

You wait ages for a swell and then 3 come along at once.

Errrr. NOT!

To carry through the bus analogy though, and assuming an average wait for a bus to be 10mins and the average gap between swells with rideable waves to be about 2 weeks, then what we have just experienced is...

50 minutes at the bus-stop without ANY traffic on our side of the street at all. Never mind buses. No cars either. No lorries. Not even a stray moped you could thumb a lift on. Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Then, on the horizon at the end of the street.....hope at last! Something looming into view that we can hop a ride on! Oh, what transport of delight...!?

What indeed?

Seems the bus company have dispensed with their clean-lined, smooth operating, easy-aboard vehicles that we love so much and what has rolled up instead isn't the Number 5 to Surfer's Paradise but rather a f#*ked up combine-harvester with a drunk driver and a conductor ready to punch your face instead of your ticket-to-ride.

All aboard?

Some of us hopped on this dismal swell, rabid with waiting for weeks on end, but it was pur....itty shitty. I got in at Embleton, rolled about for an hour-and-a-half and managed to tap out a couple of longer but crumbly waves almost to the beach from the line-up, along with a host of short bursts on collapsing sections. Just one wave pitched up a hollow few yards of a wall for a brief jolt of proper down-the-line speed. Hardly a jaded battery re-charging session though, all-in-all.

"What was the surf like Adam?"

"Blue."

 



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