I had originally entitled this post big Monday as the forecast looked so perfect. So when I hesitated posting, in the hope that I would have the mother of all posts, the swell dropped back, wind went onshore and it all went to pot.
In retrospect Sunday was the day as it was also the inaugural flight of my 9'2. That lunch time surf was just so unexpectedly good and I kept on replaying in my mind, all afternoon. So much so, that by the time the kids had gone to bed, surfing was still on my mind and I knew it was getting bigger.
So, I managed to get down to the beach in the fading light but I could feel it had changed.
Some five hours later as I crossed the cattle grid, the waves still out of sight, you couldn't avoid the noise. Perhaps I had left things a little too late as the waves were now pushing the ridge, and making such an incredible sound. I quickly jumped off what was left of the disappearing beach, and paddled for the horizon. This time, I had switched back to my 6'3 fish which was a better choice due to its size. Duck diving through the continual whitewater, I finally reached the outside sets, only to realise that the wave height had almost doubled(from earlier). As I collected myself for a moment, I just turned back towards the beach and took the next one in.
What a day, and I am still sort of recovering two days later.
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