Me and Adam, or, Adam and I, which ever way you like, went South last Monday/Tuesday. We met up with Ben Vietch, Dan Nicols and Trent Brown to gather footage and ride waves of the slabbing variety.
As the sun rose, we bounced down the 4 wheel drive track and arrived at the check spot, where we were greeted by an ocean that held a lot of potential for the day. Rons (the wave) was shaking off some morning sickness and starting to heave some nicely shaped kegs, probably 15 to 25 feet Hawaiian (6 to 8 feet). Ben, Dan and Trown suited up with haste, and were trotting up the beach faster than Adam could say, "I need to make potty".
While the boys began the paddle out, I stood and watched as the waves began to improve with every set, waiting for Adam as he excreted out demons of the lower intestine.
Adam returned and we'll never be sure if it was mid squat, or, during the numerous stumbles on the slippery cobble stones that his car keys fell out of his pocket. However, we are certain, that the keys were never to be seen again.
We scoured the area until a set hit and washed through all the rocks we suspected were hiding our access into the car. Like the keys, our hope washed away into the merciless deep blue.
Adam pondered briefly and then opted to man the hell up. He picked up a rock and smashed his back window, sending shards of glass everywhere and getting the ball well and truly rolling again. Unfortunately, my wetsuit was covered in the aftermath of the smash, and it wasn't until I begun paddling out that I realised there were small shards lodged in my suit. Funnily enough, the one shard that was actually scratching, was the one closest to my balls. Not that big a deal really when you consider Adam just smashed his own car window, a pricey sacrifice. What's a scratched nut anyway?
We got out there and had fun times and round barrels.
Later that arvo we went for an explore down a reasonably unfamiliar 4 wheel drive track. Adam, myself, Dan and now with us, Tom Obrien, in one car - Trown and Veitchy in the other. Trown has a brand new Rodeo, and he drives it like a fucking hell man. On the way back from a spot check, our car caught up to Trown's, not because he slowed down, but because he was bogged well and truly off the track. The front of his car was hanging of a small ledge and getting him out proved to be harder than we originally thought upon first inspection.
My favorite part of this dilemma was when we tied two towels together, then connected each end to the tow balls of the cars. Who would have thought a towel couldn't pull a bogged in, 3 tonne Ute. Not us. Fail.
Nearly 2 hours passed and we ended up going for a drive, finding a house, borrowing some rope and getting the job done properly.
The next day we got good waves at a new spot and all in all a fun, eventful couple of days were had.
Friends, the swell forecast is suggesting another South Coast trip could go down quite soon. I fear that perhaps another post, recounting a tale of tribulation will be up sooner than I care it to be. I wish myself luck and you who've read this, a pleasant week with good fortune.
Empties like these make you forget about having glass cutting you near your penis. (photo: Geoff White)
Me (photo: Geoff White)
Adam (Photo: Geoff White)
