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Sunday,
13 July 2003 I didn't have to ask her twice, as she's always keen to go for a wave but this particular morning she was a little bit slower than normal getting up, I guess she must have been in a very deep sleep. One great thing is that she never wakes up grumpy, and that's a blessing for me. We left home at about 6:30 only to find our usual speed down south slowed down by one of the thickest fogs I've seen in donkey's years. It was so thick going up Willunga Hill we had to slow down to 75 kilometres per hour. But by the time we reached the top of Flagstaff Hill road the whole of the south coast sky was clear, even though the sun was still another half-hour off rising. As we turned into the final stretch we were quite pleased to find it clean with a slight north westerly blowing and a reasonable size swell pushing through. We got ready in a hurry, knowing full well there was going to be a big crowd for an early session. When walking down the road to the bay where we normally launch ourselves, I said to the girl in a quizzical way, "I think my booties are still wet!" She replied, "No they're not, it's because the road is so cold". I don't think I'll ever get over the fact how cold it can get here over winter, and over such a short space in time. In just a few weeks we've gone from just wearing a wetsuit to donning additional attire, such as booties and rashies. As we neared the track down the beach, we met our mate, Terry Towelling going in the opposite direction. He was all rugged up for the cold, wearing a red pair of pants and a matching red jacket. The girl asked him, "Is that a new jacket you're wearing. Terry?" He replied, "Yes, my daughter gave it to me". I jokingly put in. "Did she knit it for you?" knowing full well it was a store-bought one. As he tried to quip back with a smart retort I added, "That's amazing, the girl knitted this new wetsuit for me". We had a bit of a quick chat as we neared the downward path. He mentioned that he'd had a long night with a few friends and some vintage scotch involved, which was probably the reason his eyecolour matched his attire so well. We promptly told him to go get his board and get out, but I bet he went and rang all his mates first, as he took such a long time to join us. Eventually we arrived at the water's edge, where we attached our legropes and ventured out into the icy looking water. The tide was reasonably high and coming in, so the shorebreak was a little bit of an inconvenience. I first thought the water didn't seem too cold but after a few minutes of paddling I noticed it was a bit nippy on my hands. We made it out the back without much bother and paddled over to the right of the point, where we had figured from the cliff top that it seemed to have been breaking better. The swells were coming through fairly consistently but we found them hard to pick up because a lot of them were thick from the fullness of the tide and probably the previous day's onshores. I caught a couple of mediocre rides and it wasn't until about another half an hour before I got a good one. It was a left hander and it looked like being a ripper! I took off just as it started to break, shot up to my feet as fast as I could to avoid pearling my board and raced to the bottom at a terrific pace, where I slammed in a fairly radical bottom turn. I raced along the face of the wave until it became less threatening, then did a cutback towards the breaking section of the vortex. I tried to do another radical turn on my backhand but it was too severe and I ended up loosing the wave. While I fell over the back of the breaking wave, it carried my board further towards shore. As the slack was taken up between me and my board, I felt an abrupt release and instantly I realised my leg rope had snapped and I was adrift in the middle of the bay and quite a long way out. At first I was disappointed, not haveing ended such a good ride with a bit more class. Then I thought, "This is going to be a damn inconvenience, I'm going to have to swim all the way across the point and then in". I looked towards shore and could see my board about 50 metres away, and for a few seconds I thought about swimming after it. I gave that idea a miss after I remembered from past experiences, many years ago before leg ropes were used, what generally happens. You get within a metre or two of your board and just as you're about to claim it again, another wave comes along and takes it away. Turning around to see if anyone was near me I spotted the girl nearby and waved to her for assistance. She paddled over and I climbed onto the back of her board with the intention of getting out of the bay and over to the other side of the point. This was a good idea but because we were almost in the impact zone I had to slide off the back every now and then to dive under a couple of larger waves which broke right on us. As we neared the shorebreak, a large wave broke just as I was about to get on the back of her board again. I decided not to climb on because it looked like being a worse disaster, as this wave was really starting to pitch. As she took off on it I made a last mad grab for her leg rope with the thought of getting a tow in. But at the speed and force at which she was travelling my hand got squashed in the tightening leg rope, causing me a great deal of pain as I wrenched it free. The girl had travelled a further 50 metres towards shore before she could get off, while I was trying to catch a body wave in. With the aid of the wash from several following waves and her endeavours to get back out to me we were together again in about five minutes. We didn't bother catching another wave together, we just let the wash from the sets coming through takes us towards shore. There where a few desperate moments as we tried to reach the beach, as the tide was quite high now and it was difficult to see where all the rocks were. Upon reaching the beach the girl asked me, "What are you going to do now? Do you want to go and have a rest?" I said, "No! I'm going out again, see if we've got another legrope in the car". I started looking for my board while the girl raced up the stairs to the car. I found my board fairly fast, lying on its back on top of the rocks about 30 metres away. I turned it over to see how much damage was done but was pleasantly surprised to find it had escaped any serious structural damage. In the meantime the girl had found a spare leg rope and instead of climbing back up to the road we clambered over rocks along the beach on our way to the bay again. When we reached the bay by pure coincidence we met another mate of ours, Jock Gordon, who was just getting ready to go out. When I say "by pure coincidence", I mean he had also recently had a very perilous swim himself which was far worse than mine had been. When we related to him what had just happened to me, he grinned at me and said, "I know! It's fun isn't it?" Mind you, Jock happens to be 67 years of age! Again we made it out the back without any problems only to cop a fair bit of ribbing from some of the crew about my little misadventure. I took it all in my stride and got on with he job of trying to get at least one decent ride without any further hassles. I remember getting a couple of ok ones but nothing very memorable. I'm not sure how much longer we stayed out but I do remember starting to feel the cold, accompanied by a slight pain across my chest. I thought to myself, "This is great, now I'm going have another heart attack". As we drove home I muttered to the girl, "I don't know how we did it all those years ago…no leg ropes or wetsuits, just board shorts, cut-off sleeved footy jumpers and a long cold swim every half an hour!"
Tuesday,
16 December 2003 So it was no surprise to me when we rolled up at one of our favourite breaks that the surf was ruler straight with a slight north east wind kissing the waves' faces and only a handful of surfers out. The girl had taken her board in for a minor ding repair the previous day, not knowing there was going to be another wave today. So we only had one board between us, so guess who went out first? The girl had already had two previous days in the surf anyway and I really needed one. I'd had a stress and echo test the day before at the Flinders Cardio investigations clinic. And even without finding out the results, I felt my main pump could handle the workout I was going to put it through. So with no regrets or second thoughts, I went out through the small bay near the point. I reckoned my paddle out would be easy, because I'd launched myself between sets but I was soon to cop a sneaker set out of the blue and on the head. About seven waves came through and I had a struggle on my hands, as I was soon going backwards instead of forwards. I looked across to the point and saw the girl standing there, and she was further out than I was. At no stage did I ever consider turning my board towards shore and giving up, not even when I started to feel some pain around my chest area. I decided to take it easy and only make an effort when necessary, waiting for a lull in sets, which would eventually come. Ten minutes later, after a very subdued performance of paddling, I eventually made it out the back. I wasn't puffed, nor did I have any pain, I was happy just to be out in the water again. Over to my left I could see the only other person I recognised, John Hardy. It's good to see a friendly face out in the surf and surfing with John is always a pleasure. I had to say g'day to him twice, the second time louder than the first, as he had what looked like wax in his ears and normal conversation vocals were impossible. He said g'day back, to which I added, "If you see my body floating face downwards in the water, can you tow it in towards the point, because the girl's there and she'll claim it". He said, "Yeah, sure" with a wry grin on his face. I'm sure he had no idea how serious I was with this banter. My riding was a bit wonky on the first wave, but I managed to finish it off with some sort of dignity. The second ride was far better, although none of the waves I caught were very far travelled. The waves were of a decent height but the tide was having a big effect on the quality of the rides, as they were short and closing out. There was one particular ride I had which got me stoked but it had nothing to do with my surfing abilities, it was a matter of being in the right spot at the right time. The second to last wave I caught I didn't really want. Both John and myself were sitting by ourselves; there wasn't anybody else within 100 metres of us. A larger than normal set came through, John caught the first one while I went for the second. Meanwhile the offshore wind had increased and was holding the waves up longer, making the wave faces steeper, so they tended to close out faster. So there I was, paddling for this wave, it caught up with me and started to break. All of a sudden I didn't want this wave anymore, so I tried to pull out of it by sliding to the back of my board but by then it had me. I went over the falls sitting on the back of my board, but with style mind you, until I hit the bottom and then the wave exploded. It must have looked quite funny from the shore, it must be the most ridiculous wipeout I've ever had. John paddled back after his ride, raving about it. He said he'd had a floater and was more than just pleased. Me, I kept my mouth shut. I finished my session with another less spectacular wipeout on my last ride near the point and came in so the girl could use my board. She went out immediately, as the temperature was climbing rapidly to its top of 39 degrees celsius, and who could blame her with the current conditions! If anything I reckon the quality of the surf looked a lot better. She managed to get three pretty good rides with the last one being her best by a long shot. It's not hard to tell if she's had a good session and it's damn easier to tell if she's had a bad one. All in all it
was a good mornings surf, even if the rise in temperature at home wasn't
too flash. I think we'll have more days like this over the summer with
the possibility of the next session being on Thursday.
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