I spent the day sanding the kitchen floor. I didn’t really want to. I wanted to get a photograph of my new Barbarian Beardhead alongside a wall of water. So I got on with the job and then set off to hit the shore dump at Hopton.
I got held up. The bridge went up and I sat there.
I had to get closer. I’d run out of light otherwise. Dogger it was then.
I pulled up, could see spray from dumping waves. I got the RRRapido down and went to the water.
Fishing match. Shit. Every groyne. I walked north.
4 groynes up I spotted a wave I could use with an angler far enough along that I wouldn’t get in the way…I asked and received permission to take some stupid pictures in the waves there.
I pulled on my new Barbarian Beardhead and launched. I don’t think they could make sense of things. I paddled out and tried to pick something up; get closer.
I got closer, I saw a nice steep strong one coming, I paddled for it, took it, pulled into a turn and braced into the wave…YES!
I paddled out again after reviewing the footage – I could use this.
Missed a few, stretched a bit, saw one and ran in on it…YES! Another wall of water breaking over me as I leant into it and stayed upright again.
I ditched the camera – the light was going rapidly and had one last go…mission accomplished in 12 minutes of water time. Not long enough but intense… 101st…Screaming Seagulls!
I went home, sat at the bridge again first though.
Youtube comment: "the song asks "what does it take to turn you on?" apparently for you a glass of cold water.....thrown at you!"
“It’s blowing a gale. I haven’t even looked at the sea yet”
“Ah it’ll be fine. Be lovely down there. Come on, let’s wander down”
I suspect he thinks I’m crazy. He brings his torch, on account of it not being light for a couple of hours yet. It’s true, it is a bit breezy. Force 5 when I left home ten minutes ago with a text from Si telling me to get off the laptop and get to the beach. Can’t even look at porn at 5am in peace. I already know, I’ve checked the RNSYC live weather station; I also know it’s due west so we’ll be relatively sheltered but the Dutch will be pissed off.
So we wander down. I rather suspect he wants to kill me. He could have been in bed at least another 3 hours, in the warm, cuddled up to Mrs Stinky (I am SO going to pay for that!) Of course I’m vindicated. A gentle lapping against the shore. The wind is above us, we’re at the bottom of the cliffs and it’s offshore. We go and get set up.
I launch, easily. Si has left his paddle so I’ve lent him Eloise’s. At 196cm it’s a bit short and with a cranked shaft and low angle blades he’s going to be handicapped in the Caper. There just isn’t time to go back though, we have to catch the last of the ebb to get the 1.12 miles north to get to the mark off the church. So, I sit and wait for him, fiddling with my fishfinder. I watch as he launches, paddling furiously as the full difference of this paddle strikes him and the only wave for ages rolls in. I laugh my tits off, take the piss and we head for the mark.
I can’t see the damned church. It’s dark, it’s not lit up, we’re maybe too close in. I look at the chart, kind of plot us in relation to where it should be and keep going until I decide it’s where we want to be. I drop down, Si does the same, we’re 50 yards apart.
By the time we’ve both settled I can’t see Si. I’m hoping he isn’t going on a tour again. He will see my light if he looks around but with his back to me I haven’t a clue if he’s drifting or not. I bait up.
Ten minutes pass and then bang. BANG BANG BANG! I grab the rod, no need to feel for the bite, no need to strike, it hoops over and bounces; this is a decent fish! I wind down onto the fish, start hauling it up against the tide, it’s shaking, fighting, gone. GONE? WHAT THE…oh you twatt Mark! Why didn’t you strike? Don’t just wind down, it’s not a bloody whiting!
Bastard has nicked my squid and is spooked. I will never know what it is but with the water just about slack I know that it was no 4lb’er. It’s been quite a while since I’ve had a decent cod on but I’m thinking it may have been getting on for a double at least. I am somewhat miffed, peeved even.
I settle back down and wait. I hate slack. I huddle up cozily inside my Ushanka; the 2.5 rabbits have a new lease of life in my hands…or rather on my head.
Finally it starts to get slightly lighter and I start to make out Si. He’s not too far away. We’ve had a natter on the phone anyway – it may be quiet here but apparently it’s sh!t over there.
I sit for a while. A week without a cigarette…I would have been on at least number four by now normally, if the wind would have let me light any of them. The tide is starting to run now, the wind is building too. I get a bite!
I feel for it, wind down, strike, fish on! I soon haul a 3lb’er up against the flow and into the boat; made up. This will join the cold smoked one of the other day in a superb fish pie in a day or two…as required, as provided.
Cheers Triton, Poseidon, Neptune…
I rebait, sit awhile longer. I get a text from Si, he’s going in and as it happens it’s about that time for me too – I have to be back home by ten. My wife is going out and I’m sanding a floor. I start to haul anchor. I hook up on something. This is no time to be broadside with the warp running underneath the hull. I sort things out and start hauling in the warp, it’s a struggle, the tide is running now and the wind has built. I get it up (!) and the pair of us head for shore, doglegging in then south; it’s a strong paddle against this wind but it eases up as we get close in.
Not far now, closer, there’s people on the beach, fishing. Si goes in, I go in, I land on the back of a wave with air beneath the bow. I slide up the shingle and I’m on dry land. Up the ramp we go and then I’m off home. That was pretty hardcore. That was my hundredth launch of 2011. A Centurion once more, fourth year in a row.
Go on then, why not. 6am and I’m downing my coffee, half an hour later and I’m out of the door. It’s windless, practically, a couple of miles an hour according to the RNSYC online weather station. That’s good; bugger all swell predicted too. A pity I got the tide wrong and was an hour out but I didn’t know that until later…
Not even seven, not even light and I’m walking down the lane at Tramp’s Alley. It’s rather wondrous with dawn casting its first meagre light over the sea and the water lapping against the shingle.
I’ve changed my mind and instead of launching at Hopton and running down with the current I’m going to paddle up to the mark against the tide, shouldn’t be too bad only an hour or so in. I launch just a few minutes after 7.
Hmm. A bit slow. It must be stronger than I thought, either that or I’ve grown fat over Christmas…the feeling persists and I can see from the shoreline that actually I’m not making a great deal of headway. Oh well. I give it twenty minutes and drop anchor short of the mark, swinging round and getting a full indication of how bloody strong the current is today!
The anchor holds and I’m sitting there, legs over the side, as the kayak swings a bit. I twig that I’ve got a couple of hours of this, will have difficulty holding bottom with the baits and haven’t got any choice in the matter now. I bait up and drop down.
I watch the sky lighten. The sun doesn’t really come up, it can’t as it’s overcast. I sit for an hour. It’s 9am when the first little twitch is seen. Not a proper bite though and I’m pulling a bit of weed, pumping baits to the surface at times! I rebait.
An hour and a half after I’ve launched And I get a bite. A decent bite. A proper bite. I have to pump this one up and I can feel it pulling and shaking; cod. No idea how big, it feels huge with a bucket-gob full of tide. And then it breaks surface thirty yards downtide, or rather leaps out of the water like a fat marlin when it takes the path of least resistance unintentionally. I haul it across the surface and into the yak, yes! In lovely condition and around 3lb, destined for the smoker. It’s taken frozen blacks inside an unwashed squid on a 4/0 pennel. Let’s hope it’s part of a shoal.
Another long wait with no movement of the rod tip and I decide that it’s time to come in. I up-anchor and spend two minutes returning to the launch site – slight difference! I de-rig and drag the Scupper up to the steps then trolley it up the ramp and along the road to my van. It takes until the kayak is on the roof before Mike drives down the road to see how I’ve got on having seen me out there earlier on; if only I’d had a bumper session to make him kick himself!
Christmas plays havoc with everything but Boxing Day is traditionally a day for pike fishing and this plays havoc with nothing. I dunno if it’s a real tradition or one I made up but I’ve been out piking on a lot of Boxing Days. Today, though, I was taking Whippersnapper out as well. Oh, and my nephew. My brother joined us too.
It was around 08:30 when we all launched. Two Frenzys, a Scupper Pro and Whippersnapper in her brand spanking Tetra 10, maiden voyage time! You see Whippersnapper is now a supported paddler; the first junior and first female to join the Ocean Kayak Fishing Team so she has to train ready to do her daddy proud at Swanage ;D
So we start off upstream with a mixture of lures between the three rods. The area by the boathouses is a hotspot in summer but would it produce today?
Nah. So we head back downstream.
The area by the hotel usually throws up a fish or two…Mike has nothing; I have nothing; Eloise is going backwards and her rod is hooped over! Yes! Game on!
Nah. It’s a snag. We carry on. It widens out here, there’s usually a pike about.
Not today though. Just short of the bridge?
Ah, I know, under the bridge next to the troll.
Guess not. We head back.
Nope. Still nothing… never mind, time for a seal launch and a re-entry? Oh go on then, why not stand up as well?
I suppose we’d better work on the seat position, paddle length and altered technique to suit the change of kayak before we go trolling a couple of miles again.
It was a bit of a struggle really, getting out of bed. The previous two days had involved driving to Edinburgh and back on tacho, a staff Christmas party (the football of stodge still lying heavily in my stomach) and a lack of sleep. Still, you can’t catch fish while farting under a duvet.
Coffee. The saviour of all mankind.
I got into the van and headed north. The idea was a launch at Hopton, take the remainder of the flood down to Corton and fish until the tide started to ebb then come back on it again. The trouble of course was that this wouldn’t provide much of a session at the beginning as high water was at 07:44 with slack coming maybe half an hour later. Still, a session is a session and I needed to burn the stodge out…
By 07:15 I was ready to go and, still dark, I began to paddle out. Things felt most strange and so I took a look at my paddle. Yep, right hand side was the right hand side of my cranked Nordkapp and it was curved in the right direction. The left hand side, however, was the right hand side of my double torque Mystik facing in the other direction. Oh how I laughed as I tried to figure out how to turn and land again without swimming.
Back up to the van, back down to the yak and away I went.
No navaids and with my VHF left on charge it was down to the mobile to let the Coastguard know I was about and where. I lined up nicely with the church, dropped anchor and cast my right hand rod out. This had a 2/0 wishbone on it from the previous week with the black lug still threaded on and nicely smelly by now I guess. I popped a squid head on each hook before casting.
Now to my other rod. Well last week I bitched so much about circle hooks that as I’d been drinking my coffee before leaving the house I’d opened an envelope from a fella I’d never met with two traces tied for me inside – thank you sir! I of course felt honour bound to use them and baited up the left hand rod with one attached.
I was just about sorted and ready to cast when my first rod started to buck. Oh, okay, fish. I cast out and clicked over once I felt the bottom then dropped the rod into the holder. The other rod was still moving and I picked up, wound down and struck.
Yep. Codling.
The tide was running faster and stronger than I expected for the time – It was now high tide and it should be stopping soon. This put quite a bend in the rod and every nod and shake of the definite codling was transmitted up the braid; the hold was solid though and after taking my time I had it up on the service and brought in a beautifully-conditioned 3.5lb’er. Success! That’s what I’d come for, in shape and size. Not bad, not bad at all. Definitely worth the early start and less than ideal times.
Oh, I’d been fishing round three minutes.
Well, ten minutes passed before the next bite, identical so another codling probably. It didn’t come again once I had the rod in my hand. Another ten minutes passed, more squid added in the meantime, before the next bite, same again but this time the strike failed to secure a hold. No bites on the circle rod though.
Then I heard something give, looked back and grabbed my anchor reel and buoy as they drifted past. Somehow my warp had given way. I was now on the drift.
Rod two up, rod one snagged. Rod one freed then used as I drifted very slowly. Come 08:30 and with the tide still not stopped I decided to call it a day and head back in to Hopton. It wasn’t a quick paddle so more stodge burnt off before an easy landing and a chat on the beach with a future yakked.
So, my Christmas Holiday had started off well.
Got caught in traffic. Broke down in rain. Paid £252 for a replacement alternator. Asda out of milk. Stuck on what starter for Christmas Eve…Humbug!
I’ve just stripped and serviced my multipliers. They were full of sand and salt and starting to run rough. I stripped them down to individual components, washed them out and degreased them, oiled them again and put them back together. They ran as good as new so I stuck them on my rods and slung them in the van last night. A pleasant couple of evenings spent doing that.
So I had my coffee and went to grab my bait box and replenish it. The three stinking mussels from last week left me at the sink instead. Oh, it was going to be one of those days then.
Soon after 6 I pulled up at Gunton drysuited and ready to launch. I could hear the waves dumping so went and had a look a bit closer as it was still dark. It looked launchable but timing would have to be spot on and with the lack of light I decided to set my rods up and then head for Hopton. That’s when I noticed that I had no 4/0 pennels tied. Oh well, I’d planned on giving my circle hooks another chance and tied them on instead with a simple running leger. Then it was off to Hopton.
The launch looked far more benign and I unloaded and headed down the ramp. The wind was negligible at this time and I launched, in the dark still, without a hitch.
I was on the mark in no time and slung my anchor over. It bit straight away and I let some line out. I figured it was because the tide wasn’t running much that I was looking out to sea but no matter, I baited up and cast the first rod out. It was bloody glorious out there.
I’d just about finished baiting the second when I noticed the rod bucking. Obviously I was drifting but it didn’t make a lot of sense; the tide wasn’t that strong and I was in the rough. No matter, I cast the other line out. When that started bucking I decided to reel in, haul anchor and have another go. This wasn’t to be however as my anchor trolley wasn’t connected – how I did it I don’t know but it had come out of the carabiner. Luckily it was starting to get slightly lighter as I headed back to look for my small inline buoy ‘somewhere back there’. Si has my new larger buoy so my baked bean sized yellow one might take some finding, not forgetting I was going against the tide and hadn’t really fixed my position precisely ;D
Twenty minutes later I decided to see what spares I had in the van, that’s when I found it again and clipped on. Hohoho.
Rods down, then grab my worms which have fallen into the footwell. Half a wrap of blacks finally make it back into the wild through the scupper hole. Laugh a minute it was this morning!
I sat for a while and then the rod tip started to nod. Hmm, timed that okay and am in the right spot, that’s a cod bite. Best we let that develop…and develop it does. I wind down and start to bring it up, can feel it on the end. Feel a nice nod just before it goes light. Okay, where there’s one there’s more. Down again. Other rod goes a few minutes later. Same again (but a whiting bite). Nope, kicks and drops off. Third time lucky? No. How about the fourth? No. Right. Back to wishbones, though they’re only 2/0’s.
At last! With the sun coming up I haul in a beauty. As you can see, it’s in the eye of the beholder…
I had a few more like that. Then a bit of mackerel attracts the best whiting of the season, well over a pound:
So I’m sitting there thinking how lucky I am to be on my yak on such a beautiful morning, all peaceful like, when I hear it…my eyes scan the horizon and I remember the number one rule of aerial combat: Beware the Hun in the Sun!
Yep, the Red Baron is back!
Don circles overhead while John takes a few snaps. I’ll probably see them eventually when I save his computer from his anger ;D They shoot overhead and I decided to whip out my big whiting and hold it up for them…that’ll teach them to swap a wet arse for a jolly over the east! From the air it didn’t seem as large so they came closer:
Not quite sure if John had his glasses on while taking my photo…or had he spotted a nudist at Corton?
Slack water came with all the riveting excitement that usually accompanies it and then as I was about to come in the rod tapped a couple of times and the line moved uptide. Interesting, cod? Nah, double shot, pin whiting number 6 and a lovely plump dab, nicely done!
I unhooked them, stowed the rods and hauled anchor. Then it was into the beach. Si was on his way down with Jack to say hi and I made my way in. I knew they would be there anytime but there was this one wave that looked too much fun to leave. I wouldn’t forgive myself missing out on it. I had to come in right now! I put my foot flat, caught it and went into a turn. I had to be a bit careful as there was a guy fishing in the bay I’d be landing in but I figured I’d either go in sideways or cutback, turn and finish off straight.
Had I not overbraced…all 15ft or so of Scupper slid out from under my arse, I pulled a rod from the holder and I came to a rather giggly rest on the beach just before Si, Jack and subsequently Mike pitched up..
The next twenty minutes just had to be set aside for playing. So what if the fishing was slow and everything went wrong? The morning was perfect.
I knew it was going to be a waste of time. I knew things were doomed. It all started, or rather didn’t, when my alarm went off. I missed the snooze button and hit off instead. That was half an hour lost. 06:30 and I crawled out of my warm bed and grabbed a coffee; should have been getting ready to launch now…
I pulled up at 7, minus my lighter which I remembered was next to my bed. I didn’t think rustling into the room in a wet and sand-covered drysuit with sandy boots would please my wife so I left it. Pulling up I unloaded, rigged up and looked for my phone. This doubles as my watch. I’d had it with me so it must be somewhere. I looked everywhere 4 times and time was getting away from me. A brainwave saw me check down the bottom of my drysuit, just above the boot. Sure enough there it was and so I did some contortions through the pee-zip and managed to extract it. 07:30 and I’m finally ready to launch and paddle, uptide, to the mark.
I arrived on the mark, reached around for the anchor and watched the reel, in freespool, float away. This was going really well! I clipped on, dropped the anchor and dragged it in with far more line already out than I wanted. Between that and the delay I was now a good groyne down from the mark and just knew it was going to be quiet. The swell, chop and tide run (mid-flow) in addition to the wind made my mind up – I just really couldn’t be bothered to up-anchor and try again.
So I cast out. A 2/0 wishbone with black lug tipped with squid and a 4/0 pennel with two black lug and a whole squid. I settled down to watch the rod tips.
They didn’t move.
Sunrise was a bit poor too.
They still weren’t moving.
In fact it was forty minutes before they finally moved and I swung in a pin whiting. Not a blank anyway!
Another half an hour passed; I turned around and saw a bot approaching, paddle up in the air just as belt and braces but he knew I was there and gave me a wave as he popped by on his way to Corton; I hoped they’d do better than me. They’d brought the fish with them though and I had my next bite. Another pin whiting.
I rebaited the wishbone with a couple of small chunks of mackerel. The bites were instant. Well, I only waited ten minutes! I missed them of course. Then a seal popped up to say hello or at least eyeball me for a while; perhaps there were fish here after all?
My final pin whiting came after an hour and a half on the water. It was time to go anyway and so I up-anchored, paddle din and landed beautifully on the back of a wave just as Aaron turned up with his wife and dog to say hi…cheers for the help getting the yak up and loaded!
So that was a waste of time…does this bode towards another winter of discontent?
Well, the title says it all. I couldn’t even get the straps off my roofrack without a bit of effort, being frozen on. Tim stayed over on the Friday night ready for an early start and hoping for surf but expecting it to be fishing weather instead we had both sets of gear ready. Of course we were unlucky and the previously forecast surf had, as later forecast, dropped away to a shore dump and a pretty flat sea with just a gentle rolling swell. So we took the Scuppers off, rigged the rods up and went down to the water’s edge.
The dawn was pretty beautiful and the waves looked very nice; we’d need to time our launch to avoid the larger ones but it was no real problem although Tim had a face wash.
We paddled out, past the pier and south to Pakefield, dropping anchor off CEFAS and inshore of the somewhat lively banks. Frozen blacks and frozen squid, still frozen, were rigged up and I stuck out a 2/0 wishbone on a rolling lead and a 4/0 pennel with a breakaway. The current was pretty strong but I held bottom okay and sat there waiting for a bite. It was quite a long wait.
Finally, some nibbles and I struck into a small whiting which promptly went back to its friends. Tim, 20 yards away, was clearly jealous. Especially when, half an hour later, I got another bite. I left it to develop and reeled in a double shot of whiting which also went back. I was on a roll…It was a beautiful morning and as the sun came up and the darkness cleared we sat there bathed in sunshine. It was still bloody cold though and I wondered why I bothered! If only the surf had come…
I had a fourth whiting and then, finally, Tim had one. That was it, two hours after launch we up-anchored and paddled back to south beach. The tide was still running, but slowly so it was a nice warming paddle. Back at the launch however we could see that the waves were now a bit larger! Not huge but enough to take note. I sat out back and watched for a while before following in a larger set. I timed it well and landed with no issues, Tim doing the same.
Red rag. I walked back home and grabbed the RRRapido. Tim fetched his Lipstik from his car. We left the Scuppers on the beach and paddled out. A few rides followed, nothing brilliant as the steeper waves were the wrong side of the groyne and absorbed by it or further out and being absorbed before they got to us. We had to come quite close in to catch the few, very few, that could give us a ride. I bottom turned the first decent one, ran along a bit and then came in sideways in the foam to a ‘well done’ from a couple of guys out walking on the promenade.
I did it again. I managed to get myself surfing backwards! I’d cut back and over a couple of times and this time I cutback and slackened at the right time; I stayed on for a second before the arse buried and I flipped. Right, remember to lean forward.
I caught another, cut straight back over and then one more and this time, leaning forward and sinking the nose, surfed it backwards right into the shore…Success! Tim clapped. I was stoked! I paddled back out, missed a bunch more that weren’t going anywhere and then, as a surfer arrived on the beach, we both caught one. I turned, 180 degrees, with Tim shooting along towards me…I tried to get all the way around and made it side-on and then, just before a collision, went over as he did the same. Great stuff. 270 degrees or thereabouts. Now to master that final quarter and the 180 and back…
It wasn’t to be. We managed a couple more smallish waves and then rode the last in together. Not a great fishing or surfing session but what a lovely morning to do badly.
Haha, yeah. Okay. Whatever. I don’t care about Lincolnshire being under snow. I don’t care that it’s a force 5-6. I don’t care that it’s cold. I sort of care it’s not July at Cley or even December at Cley but the north coast is just written off this week due to wind direction. Here the direction is okay but bloody strong; never had so many gale warnings come over the VHF as I have the last week or two. Ah well, Si could get Tuesday off, I took the same as did Paul and Mark, Mike is off anyhow and Don’s home for a bit. Christmas party and fishing comp then!
Just after 830 I arrive with the others already there. Unload, kit up, carry yak down. We’re launching at Dogger (Gunton) and heading north to Corton to get shelter from the cliffs; if it’s not good we’ll go on towards Hopton. We can’t come back, not until the tide changes anyway, so we’re kind of trapped into the plan. After Si realises the source of his anchoring woes (upside down fitted anchor) and we take the piss an easy launch follows and off we trek, it’s only a mile.
I switch the GPS on and bring us into the mark, the foul ground on the Navionics chart. Sonar confirms it and I go to give Don a hand anchoring (only his second time). It took more than a talk through and after a quick modification (tying the anchor reel to the stern carry handle) saw a perfectly aligned and centred kayak. Bang on the mark it was too. I then went off once Don was comfy and dropped down myself and started fishing. It was certainly promising, my first bite coming in seconds. I missed it though; I was calling in with the coastguard.
It was somewhat turbulent with the strong wind that wasn’t overly blocked by the land and the current was pretty strong too at this time. It wasn’t that warm either and within a short space of time I was wishing that HMS Starbucks might turn up. She didn’t, but Don brought up a codling. Two trips, two codling. Me? I said it was a promising start but it didn’t carry on and I hardly got a nibble.
It was cold. I had my feet in the water as it was warmer. I had my hat AND my polar hood. I thought the drysuit hood might need to go up too but I resisted. My hands were bearable until rebaiting at which point they seemed to chill even more. We sat there. I started to think of Si’s pot of chilli awaiting our return. Then I brought in a whiting.
Now I started to think about what I could do with it in the kitchen; my tea was sorted, the girls would hopefully follow. I piled on some pounds this weekend somehow so I’d have to be thoughtful on this. I’d also drained the fryer so couldn’t do anything there. Hmm. I reeled in a second; my wife’s tea sorted.
It was so slow! Finally though I brought up a nice, plump dab; tomorrow’s tea. I wonder how I should cook that…then it became a bit cold to be thinking about such things and I instead turned my attention to thinking how bloody cold it was, how cold my hands were, how cold my feet were, how windy it was…it seemed to be increasing.
Paul turned up; Mark had a couple of codling aboard and Don had one. This was good. I started to think about steaming hot cooked cod.
I listened to the Maritime and Safety Information Broadcast on Channel 23. It didn’t really cheer me up all that much (and didn’t tell me anything I hadn’t already been aware of) but at least it was company ;D I still felt cold though. My lower back was starting to cool now (though nothing on my feet and hands). But hey, that’s fishing ;D
I caught a whelk next. It took whole squid. I used it as bait. I should have stuck with whole squid.
Soon after an inshore boat came to fetch up his longline; he’d done alright it seemed, codling, bass etc.
I sat there all day with a song going through my head too. Well, a couple of lines of it. The Darling Buds (anyone else remember them?) singing Burst. Then the tide started to slow, the ebb started to turn into slack and I decided it was time to go; we’d be in for 3pm like this. I up-anchored and went to see Mike and then Don, paddling in with Don and Mark.
As we got near to the landing spot I got that little twinge of excitement; it was going to be a wet ride in! There was spray shooting up in the air from where the waves were crashing in. Si was in and then Paul. I could see Mike waiting back and assessing. I went past him and headed in, waiting for a reasonable wave to come in for the hell of it – I don’t do flat unless it’s really bad ;D I paddled hard for one, came in on its back but couldn’t catch it; this left me with little choice and I let one roll under and had to take the second. It was all going so well…I was coming in sideways and holding her when I noticed the second peak behind it…I got caught as it broke and I (think I) hit the beach with one leg over the offshore side and completely off-balance, the backwash pulling me straight into the other bastard that rolled me. Paul was on me like a flash grabbing gear, all leashed down and we dragged everything up awaiting the others. Other than Paul and Mike we all got a soaking and a potential Moet-winner was washed away.
I unclipped everything and had a quick blast in the waves, getting dumped again on my final run in and then it was up to the vehicles to get sorted, eat Si’s chilli, watch him get given a bottle of Moet for the largest cod of the day (courtesy of Don) and talk about how bloody cold we were ;D
Back home, marinated in lemongrass, turmeric etc, fried in a turmeric and flour dusting with shallots and basil, served with a parsley, coconut pepper salad…lovely stuff. It was a good session.
Si also got some video as we made fools of ourselves landing badly!
