Surfing

A lot seems to happen real quick these days much like the last month after a long Summer in the Southern doldrums Twig calls me up- fresh from the Northern Hemi Winter i’ve been waiting for this call for six months- but man did i not expect the tempest of swells that seemed to be welcoming him home…
You see i’ve gotten to know Twig now, coming back from an extremely successful season riding Mavericks, Hawaii and a bunch of other giant sessions, and with the first significant swell of the season about to make landfall in the Cape the phonecall was inevitable…

So after just twelve hours at home in Durban with his newly crowned Playmate Kate we were on a plane to Cape Town. The plan was bold as always, and I as always like a goebat still hadn’t finished applying for membership to the Cape Town Tow Surf association. We had a day to plan, the first thing we had to do is fish out the ol’ Honda ski and give her a run- the call was to go suss out some waves we’ve been hearing about for years, near a harbour a few hours out of Cape Town. A place notorious for those members way high on the foodchain- the good ol’ Great Whites. On arrival the swell was there, like the bad smell coming from the fish factory in the harbour it was strong- but so was the wind. The ski needed a run, and we had a new Shark Shield fully charged and ready to jolt us every few seconds (as if you need reminding!) The wave in question was in full view of the harbour mouth, and i’m always up first so i strap that thing on my leg and the jolting session begins- that’s the hardest part about the Shark Shield for me- it’s like a constant reminder, I wander if Conn Bertish and his new style of Shark protection would’ve felt out there either way i was feeling the fear. The waves weren’t too scarey though so we decided to check another left out around the corner which looked a lot better, i was still rattled from my jolting sesh around the corner so Twig had a few on my quad, the waves were real fun West Oz looking slab lefts, loads of potential but still even more sharky then the stinking harbour right. The ski’s riding sweet though and we bag it back to the harbour and on to the city in anticipation of the peak of the swell…

We sleep the night in Kommetjie listening to the ocean roar i sleep in fits and starts, eventually moving out on to the bacony almost feeling those swells unloading off Sunset. The call is to tow Tafelberg reef off the back of Dungeons in the morning, we’re locked and loaded with two paddle boards and a super solid and heavy tow-board with wide, wide straps im actually hoping just to pull Twig into a few with not nearly as much tow- experience i was feeling a little ‘deer in the headlights’ to say the least.

Dawn we’re rounding The Sentinel with AVG and Jem Johnson in tow the swell had downgraded- damn- not really anyway as soon as some semblance of relief kicks in Twig pipes up: “These are actually perfect conditions for The Slab” we both peer off into the distance past Dungeon’s lumping peaks as a barrel you could drive a bus through spits like a liquid volcanoe eploding plumes fifty metres out the back- Twig’s got his froth on, AVG too, Jem’s looking pensive- and all i can think about is that i know im up first…

Not wanting to even look at the waves you’re about to surf is a weird feeling, everyone’s hooting, pointing and freaking out- all i can think of is those straps and how wide apart they are, im a strapless tow kinda guy, i pick up this beast of a tow board- and there’s no leash plug even it’s for such huge waves- not gaping pits that resemble The Right in Oz or Shippie’s either way it’s on like Donkey Kong. We improvise with a double-string wrapped around the back strap and before the fear can grow any stronger im on the rope letting go at The Slab- first one safe standing tall in front of the barrel, the real fear kicks in getting picked up again after a wave by Twig between the peaks at Dungeons! The Slab has only been ridden a handful of times- Jem was quick to remind me that there is a twenty foot drop on the other side which is pretty much high and dry on the Low-tide. The second one feels a little better but the sensory overload is not helping! I have one more and tune Twig it’s his turn- too much adrenaline dry-wretching if you cop a hiding that revved up the adrenaline seems to eat all your oxygen, and i wasn’t willing to risk a hiding for love, money or a cover shot just yet…

We try get Jem to have a go- he’s chomping to go paddle 12-15 foot Sunset with twenty other people- as ‘Golden Hour’ kicks in with the sun rising above Chapman’s Peak- the covers and ad shots, anticipation of success you can taste Jem calls it- AVG is his passenger, no go he says all uptight. I had just towed Twig into five or so of the meanest waves ridden all year. Slab waves- the things you need a ski and a team for, the kind of wave you might only get to surf every five years but it’s not to be- bummed is an understatement. maybe if it was a left?Jem and AVG dissapear, we look over at Dungeons as a lovely set rolls in in the morning sunlight the dropping tide has brought it alive- without a photographer and no real safety we call it and paddle Dungeons the rest of the day…

Copyright 2012 Jean Tresfon

Copyright 2012 Jean Tresfon

We check in to the Fox palace that night, after two of the scariest and the heaviest days of surfing in my life and check the charts- Cyclone Irina is coming alive tracking straight for the piers in Dirt-bin. The weather’s wild i bail home to the South coast, load up the other ski and drive to Durban in the dark. Twig’s frothing when i arrive he’s already out at North Beach alone, there are tow teams rolling in from everywhere- and with Twig already out there- i sense his call as Jay Ribbink comes up and introduces me to the head lifeguard so i can get our ski in the water right on the beach at New Pier, but like i said- i know The General’s call is to paddle- it’s heaving though as i fin my 6’10 quad up in the dawn and rain jolting with the amp after Dungeons two days before this was looking way more inviting. Jason comes back asking if i had a spare set of fins- i take the oppurtunity and say;” sure- as long as you give me lift out…” he says no problem and it’s on. We push his ski in the water smashing a bunch of big foamies i hop off next to Twig off North beach with a high 5 and a chuckle we’re frothing! the next two days of surfing were unbelievable- both for their power and for the lack of people out! We surfed gaping pits two mornings in a row with no-one else out except Rudy Palmboom who rode one of the darkest most evil pits i’ve ever seen into Bay and then dissapeared. The third day everyone emerged from their hidey holes and i bailed home to try ride a left or two on the South coast…

North Beach

“Think things through” something i say so often to myself as the friends around me plan their trip to Mozambique im left thinking: After Dungeons and Irina i really have to try keep this mojo rolling and hop into a car a thousand or so k’s North to our very own ‘lil Mexico’ where the Tipo Tinto and good times flow. The swell was on the wane though and after ten daze the charts still looked dismal. We ran the gauntlet back home to the South coast just in time for the first day of Winter and some early reelers at our local.

lucky lumpy Mozam pit...

A lot can happen quickly and i just want to keep the momentum flowing- thanks to my sponsors, friends and family for putting up with me: RVCA, Wedge surfboards, VZ, Derevko wetsuits, Twig, Jo, The Fox’s, Kai the big guy and the rest of la familia love and gratitude always…

gone fishin'