Sunday 16 October 2016

On the second perfect wave of the morning, already been on it for 300 yards or so, the lip is feathering ahead and I am running with the ebb and flow of the wave, top to bottom, cut back and speed up, longboarding like I am out of some Californian road movie. My thighs are burning out with the effort, and I lose self-control and start claiming it, hooting and a-hollering. Then I hear the echo and look round.. Steve is on the one behind, paddle above his head, laughing. A quarter of a mile after we caught our waves we prone out and glide to the sand for the ten minute walk back up the point. What a morning, what a run of waves, including getting swept round a headland. And I thought it had peaked on the glassy quiet perfection we found last night.