01 . 02 . 15
At this time of year, living around here as a surfer, you’ve got to believe. If you don’t, then you might as well not bother investing in a winter wetsuit because you’d soon give up on finding good waves protected from the howling winds on the days that you’re able to go looking – mostly your weekends; you’d save surfing for the summer instead when the days are long and the open beaches are welcoming.
But if you believe, then every now and then you will find what you’re looking for. All of that time driving down country lanes and farm tracks, slip-sliding your way down muddy footpaths and trying to peer over hedgerows pays off, and you score an obscure cove, reef or point breaking on its one day of the year, and with nobody else out. But to luck into that, you’ve got to put in the hours; you’ve got to head out whenever there’s a hint of a surfable wave on your day off and do the rounds, sometimes settling for an hour of windy mush and sometimes going home without having even pulled your wetsuit on. That’s the grind of surfing through the winter. And more often than not, it’s very much worth the investment of time and hope.
Rolling up to the beach to see a calm sea and one other surfer out, we had no idea we were about to luck into some lovely little peelers...
A lumpy low tide mush fest, complete with dumpy close out barrels...
