You may be thinking; 'That bloody CP, he's always out in his Troopy scoring sick waves. Yep another post, fricken hell, he's living the dream!'
It's all lies.
Well, it's an assumption; what is really going on is that having image capturing devices at hand, any surf mish ends up being documented and then shared. The truth of it is the last three months have been intensive days of book wrangling and keyboard warrioring. The ol' back is pretty caned from it. But the next book project is now in the hands of the printers. It was time for the annual birthday mission with the bro, Kent.
About the right distance for a selfie I reckon.
I'm not a fan of birthdays, don't like the fuss, at sometime, somehow it was navigated that the week around THAT time would most firmly be out of the AK. And doing what I wanted to do, predictably, just being where the waves are good. And really what does any salty dog want; what's the best present you could get.
Spot the lone surfer
It is pretty obvious from the photos where the chosen venue was this round. It was a quick trip, amble into position the day before, sleep, amble around the reef, surf, eat, refresh, surf, sleep. Then drift home the next day.
It was a treat of a surf day. First surf a little hectic, with maybe 7 out and slow sets. Second surf, just Baz McCulloch, Kent and I sharing sets and calling each other into the bombs.
66 year old Bazzy reckons he caught 75 waves in three days, I reckon he caught more
Baz on his Anderson 6'4 twin fin
Happy local having a solid four hour session.
How good!
It wasn't the biggest, but it wasn't grovelly either. The wind and sand were near on perfect. That last surf will stay lodged in the stoke bank; an all too rare session into the sunset with pulsing sets. On the drive home I lamented with Kent I should've swum out with the camera for the last session, the waves and light were so perfect. His answer back, 'Nah bro, this was a surf trip!'
