|
|
|
|
The Mountain Man
After a few overnight
showers the weather cleared up quite a bit, even though there was a reasonably
strong south-easterly wind blowing, which would have meant Hungaries was right
out of the picture and Crescents would be too small. Anyway, Crescents was the
first place we checked out and it was about 3 foot with about a dozen guys out
so we decided to head towards where we last saw the Mountain Man, Big Hill.
As we came around the corner I could hardly believe my eyes; it was going off
like crazy. It was a lot bigger than Hungaries with the offshore wind holding
it up and peeling, sometimes unpredictable off the point and across the bay.
Seconds later we saw MM's car coming around the bend and as he got out of his
car I could tell he was pretty eager to get out there amongst it. We both had
a look and thought it was going to be a very long paddle, starting from way
down the beach and around the incoming break. While he was changing into his
gear I studied it a little longer to discover that one could walk about 75 metres
alongside the point through the shallows and then in between the bigger sets
make a 50 metre or so dash into clear water out the back. The timing of this
little experiment was going to be very critical. As far as the girl's mood towards
not be able to go out there, here she is in her own words describing what it
was like being there....'It was f******
huge! The guys got all excited, but I was so depressed, because I could see
it was way too big for me and looked quite threatening. So I decided to stay
dry and take some photos without the converter. Sitting on the rocks with a
towel over my head for protection, watching the guys enjoying themselves in
these big waves didn’t exactly make me feel better. Neither did the
girl on a shortboard I observed surfing out there. So I went back to the car
after having taken some shots and sat there and sulked, being close to tears,
reading Women’s Day'.
About 15 minutes after the Mountain
Man went out I was making my own way out through the shallow water while the
girl was clambering over rocks on the point with her camera (this time without
the faulty converter and just an ordinary zoom lens). I finally reached the
point where I had to do the 50 metre or so sprint out the back and to my surprise
the rest of the paddle out was very easy without any big sets coming through.
Getting out there
Besides the Mountain Man and myself there were 5 other surfers in the water with the sets not being very consistent, so we had to wait 10 minutes or so for some of the bigger ones to come through. I noticed that the Mountain Man was sitting way out, over to my right, so I yelled out to him 'What the hell are you doing over there?' he replied with something that I couldn't quite hear. The next thing I knew was what he was trying to say, as a really big set came marching in and the rest of us who were sitting closer to the point had to scramble like crazy for the horizon just to get over them before they caught us inside. Meanwhile MM caught one of the bigger waves of the set, riding it all the way into the beach and across the bay. Don't worry he didn't mind telling me about it a couple of times. It was such a long ride that I didn't see him for quite a while and I thought he must have gone in but a quarter of an hour later he bobbed up out the back again.
Mountain Man's classic
The first wave I got was one of the smaller ones, as I usually prefer to get one of these at a spot I've never surfed before to get a feel for the place. Even at this size the takeoff was quite steep and fast and I realised that this was going to be one hell of a session.
Click above to see the sequence
A nice cutback by the Mountain Man
The next one I caught, I'd call my wave of the whole trip as it had everything a surfer could want. A late takeoff followed by a long and threatening wall and plenty of zip as my board responded to my every request of it. There were plenty of sections and opportunities for manoeuvres but the wave was moving so fast that now it all seems like a blur. All of a sudden the ride was over and I was trundling back up the back towards the point to go out again.
The fast bottom turn
Once again I managed to get out there without any trouble but I don't think it did my concentration any good as I became a bit complacent about the joint. Very shortly after I reached what I considered clear water a big brute came through and cleaned me up. I was scratching to get out the back beyond it before it broke and just as I started up the face of it, it nailed me good and proper, driving me deep into the water like a nail through a soft bit of wood. The strange thing is that it didn't toss me around like a rag doll like I expected but just held me under for what seemed like an eternity. I opened my eyes as I always do when I wipeout but all I could see this time was blackness. I was trying to swim up but I didn't seem to be making any headway as I was still being carried forward by the surge. The seconds passed and then I started thinking 'I'm going to drown, I've got to breathe and it's going to be water instead of air'. Just as I was about to take down my first lung full of water when I noticed that the darkness was beginning to clear and I realised if I just held on for a few seconds longer I would burst through the white frothy surface and air. I came up and gasped a lung full, quickly looked around to see if I was going to be hit be another and then yanked my leg rope to get my board coming to me instead of wasting time going for it. I'm not sure how long I was under but I reckon it was the best part of twenty seconds and even though it sounds a bit frightening, I wasn't in the least as it didn't seem that bad an experience. I really don't think drowning is that terrible a way to go. Probably the worst thoughts I had about it was that if I had drowned it would have been a damn inconvenience by putting an end to all the things I like doing and all the ones I love. This is not the first hold-down that I've experienced as I suffered a similar one in bigger surf at Bells Beach back in the early sixties and the worst part about that one was the very long swim in to recover my board. Thank god for legropes these days!
A ripper ride
As a result of this experience I sort of lost my complacency and upped my concentration level and went on to catch a number of other rides that weren't so bad but nothing like the earlier big one. Eventually I came in and was sharing the stoke with a French guy who had been out there and we both agreed that this was a very special day and we were the very few surfers on this coastline lucky to get such a session. As per usual the Mountain Man was the last one to come in and when I reflect on it he was always the first one out.
Yep! I made it
One last big one
By the time we had all finished this session the wind had sprung up and the tide was coming in and the break was starting to look a bit messy. So we decided to pack it in for the day and go back to Crescent Head to see what was happening there. I don't think any of us was really surprised to find the swell had risen quite a bit but was currently suffering the same fate as Big Hill, too much offshore wind. So after an hour session that wasn't too fruitful, mainly due to the wind we decided to hit the Crescent Head Country Club for a bite to eat and consider where we were going to surf on the morrow.
Big Hill
Click here for Crescent Head
Back to The Castaway Surfing Home Page
Photographs by Sibylle Martens
© Ron Taylor / Sibylle Martens
bravenet.com