Tuesday, 29 March 2011
I don't think Howard Swanick gets the credit he deserves, with all his endeavours at Drift magazine. It is without doubt the best free digital publication I have found to date, and his articles are always a worth a read. Check out Drift
Monday, 28 March 2011
As soon as spring arrives, all I can think about is how much it feels like summer. No gloves, no hood, but still enjoying the warmth of my boots and familiar faces in the lineup. What a fun little evening. The last few days of surf have put the biggest smile back on my face. Just perfect. Thank you.
Had a great day at work and snuck out on the mini simmons for its inaugural flight. Not sure what was happening but savoured the comfort of my 8'0 hull instead. Nice swell and haven't laughed so much in a while, showing my redneck routes of dropping in and whooping down the whole lineup. Surfing saved my life.
Thursday, 24 March 2011
Wednesday, 23 March 2011
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
After a strange start to the week, with a funeral, I feel a lot of sad energy. So with no real sign of swell, I caught up with the Braunton mariner, Skelly and marvelled at his beach scavenged cottage. The place was full of some amazing detail, not to mention a ridiculous catalogue of beautiful boards. Boat keels, and drift wood littered the house, and it just felt like stepping inside the life of a very unique surfer come ancient mariner. Whilst I quickly hurried round, taking in all the old timber and breathing in the salty air, the church hymn 'for those in peril on the Sea' kept ringing in my ears.
Thinking nothing more of it, and being slightly disgruntled to meet another labrador aptly named Bear, I headed home trying to recall the words of the song.
So it caught me a little off guard today, when I arrived at the church only to sing the very tune, as the first hymn in a farewell to my Gran. As we all paid respects to a truly great lady, I couldn't stop thinking of how very precious life is, and a growing feeling to enjoy every last second of it. She did.
Whose arm doth bind the restless wave,
Who bidst the mighty ocean deep,
Its own appointed limits keep:
Oh hear us when we cry to thee,
For those in peril on the Sea,
William Whiting - 1860
Sunday, 20 March 2011
Its been a great couple of days despite the diminishing swell. Driving through the lanes in the blue sky, and watching my nephew improve with each session, has been a great start to the spring. The hull has continued to perform in the small stuff without the need for a long board, and its perfect to paddle alongside Henry as he pulled into his first waves. Thanks Dan/Carl for loaning Henry the wetsuit.
Friday, 18 March 2011
Had such a great surf today on the closest thing to a hull I have ever ridden. It just flew down the wave, and felt ridiculously fast. I was just buzzing on the drive back home and haven't really settled since. Andy grimaced and just called it a minimal, but then he did acknowledge it was flying, and I promise you it surfs nothing like a minimal. It has no rails to grip and the fin is so far forward, it almost feels like a keel. I don't think it needs to be catalogued, other than a damn fine surf day, and you can bet i'll be paddling it again in the morning.
Friday, 11 March 2011
Funny thing about the severe back pain I have been suffering from, is that it all but disappeared for the hour I sailed yesterday. As I was rigging, Nick strolled past and mentioned a physio friend had extolled the virtues of windsurfing and what it can do for your back. It all seemed like a good idea, but the pain I have this morning, leaves me in some doubt.
Wednesday, 9 March 2011
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
Its been a perfect day with a nice head high swell and blue blue skies. I scarred myself by under dressing in a 4/3mm suit, but the ride I did score was definitely worth the freezing water. However perhaps more of interest is the continual appearance of orbs (BTW -above is lens flare) in certain pictures taken around the gardens of where we live. I hadn't really given it any more thought until I heard an old gardener telling me his chilling tales of being haunted here 30 years ago. We have agreed to meet up at some point in the near future, and as he we ended our telephone call, he asked me if I knew the story about the buried treasure. It was just too much to take, and am already imagining what other great tales he might have up his sleeve.