I suspect any slider worth their salt knows the feeling. Having checked the maps the night before, it all points to a non-event. Yet deep down in our guts a little voice keeps saying, hey get up, wake up, it’s on the wind has dropped. Sensing a leftover wind swell, we just know there’s some bowls of morning goodness being dished up for breakfast.
Hitting the car park, surreal morning light filters through some low lying cloud. It all seems a bit too quiet. A small crew is making busy, silently getting changed and waxing up. Keeping it quiet is the common game plan. Nobody’s really that keen to wake the occupants of the backpacker van. It’s going to be a quiet session, phones off, mouths shut, eyes wide open give away hidden smiles. Empty and hollow, yeah it’s been a while.
Under trees and over the dunes, there’s a few Groms pulling tight lines through the bowl. Despite the lame forecast they always seem to know. Or perhaps it’s just that micro sliders are so stoked, they never really go home.
It’s all flowing right, we’re in tune and we know it, while others seem to have simply missed out. They’ll get their chance, maybe tune in some other time. But not now, right now the moment is mine. You know what they say about time tide. It’s a moment to be grateful for, to not hesitate. Because the truth is that good things don’t always come to those who wait.
A local lid slider had been out there since dawn. As is his habit, he’s sniffed out the gnarliest peak on the beach. Sitting on his own, he quietly and methodically worked his way further inside. Be the end of the session he had it totally wired.
As the tide slowly drained away, the breakfast bowls slipped off the shorey into deeper water. It was beginning to lose its intensity. The clock was ticking and the crew knew it. Punters were starting to line the dunes doing a bleary eyed surf check as they struggled to shake off the previous night’s indulgences. There were only minutes left before it was game over. It was time to let it go.
The car park rapidly filled as people seemed to just materialise out of thin air. The word was out, there were frantic messages going out over the networks. But it was too late, the wind was building, the swell was failing and the crowd was growing. Those who had sensed it, had surfed it. While others ran down the beach hoping for more. The crew were pulling in to last of it. They knew they had scored.
Heading in, time for work, time for school, or if you’re lucky just lazing around in the shade somewhere cool. Doesn’t really matter what’s next. Because we scored empty breakfast bowls when most thought there’d be no waves, and that’s always a recipe for a bloody good day.
A Slideaholic to the end, just one more wave, hmm maybe just another. Scratching out that last one as the wind begins to swing. These days’ empty sessions this good at our local beachie are kind of rare. When we score them, we know, we’ve just been involved in something special. No hassle, no BS just pick and choose the wave and line you want. It’s just one of those things that tends to bring on genuine gratitude…..Slideaholics.
- slideaholics journal # 2
- breakfast bowls
- publisher | longboard clinic pty ltd
- photography | yoko & bear bennink
- editor | bear bennink
- digital production | yoko bennink
- copy writing | bear bennink
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- copyright©longboardclinic pty ltd 2017
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