Newsgroups: alt.surfing
Subject: Basking in glory (DJBASKIN.76)
Date: Thu, 20 Feb 1997 08:53:11 GMT

 
  Disclaimer 1:  Another visit to a mythical land and its equally
                 fictional surfing fraternity.
             2:  The files ain't what you'd call "intellectual property",
                 but hey!, they _are_ mine. B-)                

                  The D.J.Files #76

       Basking in Glory

       Mid 70s, April:
                       Andy, Wheel and a couple of others are having their
  usual Spring trip to England's South-West. Right at the bottom of the
  peninsula that is Cornwall, is a place called "Land's End". Very-friggin-
  original I hear you say. Yeah, well...OK. It used to be a layed-back little
  spot, with one hotel, one pub, one gift shop and a large sign-post pointing
  in all directions where a photographer would put your home town on the
  appropriate quadrant and record your visit on Kodachrome for a small fee.
  People would stand, wrapped up in anoraks on a windy overcast day, under e.g.
                 "  <---  Akkron, Ohio 2,500mi.  "  
  making it look like they were having a really good time. Folks is funny.
  These days they charge you a packet just to park there. Don't bother, I say.
      Right around the corner, just a short drive and a plunge down a steep
  hill is Sennen Cove: the most southerly surf spot in Britain (yeah, yeah,
  I know the Channel Islands are further south. Jeez, there's always a smart-
  arse in the crowd!) which Andy and co. are going to rip the stuffing out of,
  given half a chance. As luck would have it, there's a good metre of swell
  when the crew arrive, giving head-high surf, and a light offshore.
      Just a short drive away was a little camp, called "Skewjack"  which
  specialised in surfing/canoing holidays, with lessons and rental equipment
  and suchlike. Maybe it's still there...
        "Bar*Disco every night*Bistro*Shop*Pool*Free Showers*Films"
  said the ad. Pool? You must be bloody joking, well at least for 10 months
  of the year. Stay in a chalet too, it's warmer. There always seemed to be
  guys down from London or the Midlands in there. I won't say 'kooks', but...
      Sometimes in April you can get some really nice sunny days and the temps
  can creep 'dangerously' near the magic 20C (70F) where all life starts. Apart
  from ski-ing'n'that, I mean. Such was the case for Andy and the crew. Having
  stayed at a bed'n'breakfast nearby, they roll into the Cove on an almost
  sub-tropical day of perfect surf, UK-style. Sitting on the beach is a bunch
  of 7 or 8 surfers, boards and wetties lying about. No-one is in the water.
  Odd. Head-high sets were peeling off. The Welsh crew grabbed their gear,
  suited and waxed up. A couple of the other group wandered up..
      "Um...you're not going _in_, are you?" said the first
      "There's a _shark_ out there!!" menaced the second, eyes wide.
      "Yeah, we saw it as we drove down the hill..." Andy casually remarked
                                                   "...it's only a basker".
      "Only a..." guy #1 faded  the sentence, looking at his mate.
      "Staying at Skewjack are you?" asked Andy, just as casually as before
      "Um...yeah!" said #2, looking like he thinks  'is this guy psychic?'
      Andy just smiled.
      The Welsh crew hit the water. Truth is, at least 2 of em were mentally
  crapping themselves too, but didn't want to "wimp out" after Andy had been
  so casual about it all. Plankton eater, Andy had said. "Must bloody-well eat
  an awful lotta plankton", had been Wheel's comment, along with "looka-the-
  bloody-size on it!"
       Once outside Andy got the first wave: a late take-off, arms-up drop,
  banging off a hard bottom turn and rebounding off the lip. Set himself up
  for a faster section. Tried, but failed, to get a coverup, but made the
  section and pulled out. He paddled back out for more, glimpsing the large
  dorsal fin well outside the lineup. 
      Everyone had a fair number of nice waves, ridden according to their
  styles and skill levels. Fantastic session: sun, light offshore, good waves,
  spectators who could appreciate a good ride, and only four out (five if you
  count the shark). At one time the big shark came within a few metres of Wheel,
  who sorta said "Ggaaarrrgh" or something, but just sat there anyway as it
  cruised past, big jaws agape. 
      When they all exited the water, the bunch of surfers on the beach just
  watched them walk past. An odd sort of admiration, or maybe just amazement,
  sort of exuded from them. When they got to the car Andy shook his head and
  said "I'm sure they're surprised none of us has been eaten". Wheel's nervous
  laugh indicated he probably felt the same. 

  
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                                *  Bear