The New Toy

I love the smell of new monofilm in the morning.

(i.e., MMmmmmm... nneeewww ssaaaaiiilll....)

A 2009 Gaastra Poison 5.8

As mentioned earlier, it was all the result of putting my knee through my sail in the Breakwind to Beacon race.

The local sail shop (SHQ) had this competition for a brand spanker new Gaastra open to anyone who had competed in the race, all you had to do was be there at the post-race BBQ for the draw.
I'd competed in the race.
I'd busted my current sail doing so.
I needed a snag.
But I was sposed to be somewhere else/I was knackered and wavering, until good ole Mr Porridge said:
"Mate, you're sure to win... you need a new sail now. Its karma"

Such amazing logic.

So the snags were eaten and the draw commenced, but after a couple of aborted tries because "winners" weren't there (plus one person - Matt - was drawn out but gave it back as he'd won it the year before...) they decided it was all taking a bit too long, ditched the obvious jinxed drawer, and asked, of all people, Mistress P to be the new and infinitely more spunky barrel girl.

Being barrel girl involved the complex task of calling out some random numbers and the person with that number on the start list would win the thousand dollars worth of Gaastra's finest monofilm and crossply.

First she called out "3", but it was someone who worked in the shop.
"I'll put it back in stock!" they said.

No can do.

Then she called out "20" but yet again that nongsicle wasn't there to collect the prize.

"SAY A HIGHER NUMBER!!" yelled some whacker from the bleaches. (And no, that someone wasn't me...)

"Forty-five!" she cried.

Paul from SHQ flicked through his start sheet.
"Forty-five... forty five... thats... Andrew".

{No, couldn't be this Andrew I thought as i hid behind the masses...}
"Andrew.... Watkins"
{Oh crumbs...}

Suddenly someone yelled out:
"Hey - that's her husband!"
{I felt all sheepish... and cowered in the back clutching my BBQ raiding son; "Its too hot Michael!"}

Paul spun and faced the angry horde...

"But Andrews the bay wind web page guy (http://www.earthsci.unimelb.edu.au/~awatkins/bay.html).
And he put his knee through his sail in the race!
Will we give it to him anyway??
What say ye?!?"

And everyone cheered.
Seriously.
They cheered.

I was stunned!
(Not to mention several hundred dollars better off.)

Thanks everyone - what a great community.
Thanks Matt a.k.a "the guy who handed it back cos he had won one before".
Thanks Gaastra!
Thanks SHQ!!

Look at her.
Sex on a (carbon) stick.

Stoked.

Breakwind to Beacon

Finally went in the race.
Wind dead onshore.
Straight line is 8km out, and 8km back.

Me:
35th place.
28.8km.
58 minutes.
One knee through bottom panel of my 5.7.
Won the lucky draw prize at the BBQ (A Gaastra Remedy 6.4!)
Bloody great day :-)

Dot/Elwood

Its kinda like how I felt when I looked back after sailing (with JM) from Elwood to out past the shipping channel last weekend.
Or maybe not.

The Search

Sometimes you really gotta wonder why we do this sport...

Forecast was for 20-30 knots Northerly, but against my better judgment ("Never go to Rye once the bay temps warmer than the ocean temp...") said we might tippy-toe down the Peninsula so as not to disturb the gods and attempt a sail regardless.

Headed off at about 9am, but could see no wind and fellow hopeful Adrian had said he was doing a bike ride so wouldn't be at Rye till 11am.
Also thought the wind would come in late if it did at all.
Had, as a precaution, packed the the surfboard (all nice and newly repaired from a Sandy Point fin removal... so new wax on and everything) so decided to turn off Moorooduc Road and head to Pt Leo, as I knew the tide would be right.

At Pt Leo they wanted a fee to get in, so I turned round (as I wasn't sure I even wanted to surf cos it was starting to look windy) and went to Shoreham instead.
There were HEAPS of people, sunny skies, warm already and a beautiful wave that looked the dux guts for beginner-me.
PERFECT!
Chucked on the wetty, grabbed the board, locked the car went to go and..
ARGGHHH!!!
YAGOTTABEFUGGINJOKING!

No leg rope! (Been taken off during the repair...)

Bugger. Bugger Bugger.

Oh well, looking windier so jumped back into car and drove to Rye for a sail.
Rye.
No wind.
Like 5 knots.
Sat round, got a call from Joel who saw me as he drove past to go jerkskiing.
"No wind dude - didnt even bring my sailing gear" he says...

Wandered across road and bought some new sunnies from the Bolle shop.
Still no wind.
Wandered into Peninsula surf centre and bought a $25 leg rope (can always have it as a spare) and drove back to Shoreham, via Flinders for lunch where I chanced upon, and bought, the worlds biggest donut - seriously, it was the size of a dinner plate; I was in heaven.
Seriously - a frikin dinner plate (with a hole in it).

Back at Shoreham.
Tide had gone out, rocks exposed, no one out, crap wave.
Bugger.
Spoke to Adrian who was now at Rye.
Still no wind.
Jumped in car, headed off thinking I'd check out up the bay and maybe a sail at BonBeach or in desperation, Green Point, Brighton.
Halfway along Tubarubba Rd get a txt.
Pull over. Call Adrian.

"Its blowing 18 knots here at Rye - get ya woolybutt down here!"

Fair enough.
Keep driving along, past Foxy's Hangout (complete with wooden foxes, unlike my early childhood when "they" hung real foxes there) to freeway and turn BACK south.

Get to Rye.
Adrian, Bernie, Jane sitting on the beach having lunch.
And NO wind.
Like 5-8 knots.
"Sorry bout that" says Adrian...

We sit, yabber, then head to a coffee shop for a caffe' and cake.
Adrian gets garbled message from Mel about "You must be loving this wind".
Decide to tootle to Mt Martha to see if this wind thing actually exists.
Mt Martha.
No wind.
Decide to drive till we find wind or get to BonBeach (I'd heard it a good spot on as northerly).
Don't see any wind till Carrum, and a few kites.
Pull into BonBeach - theres a car park down the street directly opposite the station;Williams St I think.

See some guys packing up.
Seems a bit breezy.

"How'd ya go?" I ask.
"Well, those guys have been sailing since 9am..."
... my jaw drops...

"And i'm just coming in cos it was getting a bit gusty - i was on a 4.7"
... jaw slams into ground and I slump over like Burke and Wills at the dig tree.

"YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!!"

Adrian walks up.
"This guy says he's been on a 4.7 for the last hour"
Adrian almost crumples to the ground in disbelief.

Its 5pm now and theres a plaintive Voicemail messages saying "I'm tired" from Mistress P but...
We decide to rig.
Sometimes its better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
Seems windy again.
Both of us have run out of drinking water and hence are indeed parched as Burke and Wills too.\
And maybe as stupid.
Put up a 5.7 on the big (93l) board.

Fly out, first run.
Wind drops immediately.
Spend 5 minutes trying to waterstart in nothing.
Get going, but its very off and on. Nice place to sail though.
About to call it a day cos sick of this dam gusty crappola, when "whoosh"...

Wind comes in and we're flying, solidly powered.
My gybes were seriously crap and I am a bit frustrated, but hell, it beats driving.
Jellyfish everywhere so don't exactly like falling in.
(Since when have there been jellyfish swarms when the waters COLD!)
Still we're sailing.

Or were... mast suddenly rips through the top of the luff pocket and slowly descends down the stick, turning a 5.7 into a 4.0 in the space of 30 seconds.

"THATS IT!!!"

Sail in, pack up, head off into Beach Road traffic jam.
Arrive home at 7pm.

I really shoulda just given up at 9:30 (am).

(Nah....)


Google map...

The gods must be crazy. Or just vindictive towards cyclists.

The things we do for kiddies.

Monday, 4:30pm. Gotta get boy from child care.
Train or ride?

Train pro: gets me home well before 6pm and hence early pick up for Master M.
Train con: feels like a live sheep exporter; may get stopped by delays due to howling 40 knot gale and 100 year old train infrastructure that breaks if you sneeze on it.

Ride pro: makes me feel good; fitness plus; get to see outdoors after day at desk, WNW means generally tail wind
Rode con: bit of a mad rush to get home, weather seriously crappy.

Oh sod it.. I love weather.

Off I go. Feel the rush.
Or is that air?
"Oh oh..."
Barely 500 m of a 21 km ride home and indeed its air. Coming out of my rear tyre.

Bugger.

Change tyre, but find that new chain wax is not so much wax on- wax off, but rather wax on and wax stay on... meaning it just collects gunk and becomes messier than a Carlton FC Mad Monday.

Hands filthy. Dont realise that I have wiped my brow and hence face equally smeared with gunk. Look like madman.

Bugger.

Back on the road. Wind WNW. Slight headwind to Station pier but not too bad. Turn left...

WOOOHOO--WOOOSH!!!

Tailwind just takes me away and to St Kilda pier I'm sitting on 44 to 48kmh; that's Cadel Evans time trial speed, and I'm on a mountain bike.

Sheesh. I'm a cycling god.

Wind goes a little more W and hence more a cross wind, so slow down to a measly 28-30kmh. Also means that the waves are a little more onshore.
Get to Brighton and notice I am suddenly cycling in a fine spray.
Which for a second or two becomes large drops.

"Bloody rain" I think.

Till i taste it.
Its salty.
Its sea spray.
"Bloody waves".

Bugger.

Riding next to the sea at Elwood and a gust hits that almost literally takes the front wheel away from under me.
Must have been 40 knots at least.
Cling on for dear life.

"Bloody wind" I think, as I poop myself a couple more times when I get hit by another gust of cross wind and almost career into a fence.

Round the corner near the end of North Rd to find a seawall with waves crashing over it showering the bike track at seemingly random intervals.

I think of that Russian roullette scene from The Deer Hunter.

"BANAZII!!!" I scream as I plough on at 30kmh into the death zone.

"Keep going.. almost there.... she'll be right.... OHHHHH NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

A full 2 metre wave crashes over the wall and I am drenched but still upright.
Salt water drips from my helmet, ears, shirt and out my from my jocks.
Mostly down into my shoes.

Continue on looking through the blobs of salt water on my riding glasses and thinking of all the bike bits now slowly rusting.

Past Brighton Baths and another huge wind gust just as a cyclist comes the other way...
"WHOAAAA!!!"
Almost a head on as he is pushed straight infront of me...
I see the look of terror in the whites of his eyes.

Almost home... Green Point.
"At least there will be a true tail wind when i turn inland..." I rejoice.

Only there isnt... the tempest has passed.
Even the 2 guys trying to windsurf are having trouble getting out to sea through lack of wind.

Bugger.

Look at my watch and almost late for picking up the boy.

"Will grab the car when i get home..." I calculate.

Swing into my street and turn into my house.

"Oh you've got to be fuggin joking..." I exclaim.

The council have dug up 100 metres of footpath and put streamer "do not pass - danger" tape across my driveway.

Bugger.

Think I'll ring the carer to say I'm late.
Look up at dangling black line.

Wind has blown down phone line. (Tru dinks - I can't make this stuff up.)

Bugger.

Hose salt off bike.
Change clothes.
Jog to carers house.
Collect boy 5 minutes late.
Carer doesn't mind one bit and in fact waits at the door saying long goodbyes to the boy.

Stroll home and collapse on the couch.

Realise ear is full of dried salt.

Bugger.

(But stills beats the train.)

GPS good fer sumfing...

Got out in the end down at Rye (see below) after standing on the beach for a while and wondering if a Crunchy Pt surf would be a better option - tide was up after all... Of course i was the only one flopping about, but suddenly the wind came up and i was flyin', and hence dragged several others out onto the water when they watched me planing by giving them the "watchawaitin'foryalugnuts?" yahoo.


Anyway, the point of this post...

Well after jinxing myself at the start of the session with a "This 6.5 Sailworks Retro is flippin' amazing... bought it new in 1999 (a 'Gear 2000' model no less) and its still going strong" it, of course, tore a ruddy great hole in itself when i was miles (ok, a nautical mile) from the car park.
"No worries... I can still sail it home; if Mike Carter-Key can do it on Mad Monday, so can I..."

Of course... A hundred metres later..
"BANG!"
Whole dang sail exploded, i was plonked in the freezing drink, and i was out at the second sandbar.
"Bloody cold swim..." I thought.
Only to find that I could touch the bottom. So.. I walked in (doncha love Rye?), chest deep at most.
"Bloody cold walk..." I thought.

Left the gear in the bushes behind the beach, quick look at where i was {near set of locked dunnys} and then, the "piece of resistance", set the spot as a waypoint in my GT-11 GPS.

Jogged the 0.8{something} nautical miles back to the car, whipped off the togs, ate a banana, had a wee, then set the GPS up on the dash and headed back up Pt Nepean Rd till the little GPS arrow pointed at the water and the distance to waypoint said 0.01nm.

Pulled in, and sure enough, there on the beach, was my (slightly second hand) stuff! Genius.

Knew these GPS thingys were good for something.... ;-)

(Anyone have a good 6.5 for sale - cheap?? Preferably another Retro - that will last me till 2017...)

Session details....
http://www.gps-speedsurfing.com/default.aspx?mnu=user&val=33984&uid=2447

AB hits the bucket

One for the weird and wonderful (ok, maybe not all that wonderful) file.

Ricketts Point, a 5.0 and the 93 JP freestyle wave, waves and a dying wind. Decide on a little bit of a speed run down the line of the waves, and turned her up to 11. We were smoking.

"Mmmmm... whats that blue thing down ther......."

!!BANG!!

"Ohmigodnooooooo....." and over the front we go in the traditional rag doll in the jaws of a rottweiler catapult fling and smash - something we hadnt had the "joy" of experiencing, at least at that sorta speed, in quite a numbe of years.

"What the goddamn $#%^&*^ hell..." I gasped as I came back to the surface and checked that the board/sail/mast/most of my more vital body parts were still in tact.

And there it was floating, somewhat worse for wear and exhibiting a doozy of a fin-induced crease: a bucket. A blue plastic dropped-over-the-side-from-a-bloody-fishing-boat bucket.

Well fugg me. (And it almost did.)

Oh no...

How much is this going to cost us???

:-)

Cup weekend at Sandy 2007

With a bub its all a bit different... but Sandy once again turned it on for the Cup Weekend.

Ok, we didn't actually sail in the competitions (who sails slalom these days anyway???), and we didn't make it to the pig-on-a-spit BBQ, but we manged to catch up with all those people we hadn't seen since pre-boy days.

The house we stayed in was a mix of top class stuff ("Ohhh... a Russell Hobbs toaster..." Me: "A What???") and total impracticality (A ladder hung from the ceiling dangling things in the head anyone approaching 6ft), but it did have a track directly out the back and over the dune to the beach - well, it you were prepared to scramble a bit.

As for the sailing... well there was a bit of cross-off surfbeach sailing, but the wind was flukey and the current was horrendous; one slip and you were drifting back to Melbourne. Even the good sailors were having a walk of shame every second run.

Still, i managed a ripper of a backside wave ride, carving off a steeper face than i've ever attemped before and leaning into the sail quite nicely thank you very much.

As for the inlet, the wind was mostly easterly, and hence it wasn't perfect but indeed better than sitting on the beach. The GPS was given a run and managed a top speed of around 30knots. Its all on gps-speedsurfing of course.

Fun times!

Ride to work (very fast) day

Embarrassing ... but Ride to Work Day 2007 and it was just such a doozy of a wind (perfect 10 knots SE) and perfect blue skies that i couldn't help going for it... the end result: 42:57, home to (bike) hook, av speed 28.2km/h.

My all time record ride in - and not on the silver bullet but on my full suspension NRS2 mountain bike too!!! (And no road riding like last time...)

My apologies to all those first time riders that saw a black blur and felt a breeze. We only get days like that a culpa times a year at best. A pearler....

Misguided

As I enjoy my 2 minute shower with a bucket, with my optimistic downpipe diverter to water the hedge screen and grey water off the washing machine keeping my last remaining patch of lawn green. As the globe potentially faces its hottest year on record, and Australia experiences its fifth warmest first quarter, I gaze at my innocent week-old son - who may be a father himself in 2050 - and I wonder.

Who is being misguided and mislead?

bizzare cycling injury #10

We've experienced been some bizarre cycling injures in the past - broken bone in hand from crashing (and grabbing onto) a chicken wire fence; grain of dirt in the eye so embedded that required a doc to literally scratch it off our eyeball; burnt finger from going "geez that was a bloody steep descent - wonder how hot my disk brakes got...? FUGGGINOUUUUCH!"

Then today riding to work another to add to the list.

"Wasp lands on hand and gets feet stuck in cycling glove soft velcro stick pad thingy, craps itself and stings me like a bastard"

Took 2 or 3 flicks to get the damn thing off he was on that tight. (Which only got him more pissed, and me more stung, off i reckon.)

Christ on a bike... (I'm gunna be whining for my mummy all day.)

Stylin... 1985

This is how cool people went windsurfing in 1985... (note hair and pink T-shirt; how cool was this dude!)

A 320cm board.

A "powerhead" (i.e., single batten in the top) sail.

A fin that slid into the board from behind.

A boom that tied (not clamped) onto the...

One piece fibreglass mast.

Oh, and the coolest thing of all? Being driven to the beach in a buzz box Mazda 323, where the gear was longer than the car... by your mum.

Sandy turns it on...

Does it actually get any better than this (umpire)??

Sandy Point, arguably our last child-free trip away until 2024 (see http://bigtum.blogspot.com), and a Monday flex day. Sunshine, warm water, spring suit, 18-24 knots SSW, mid tide... Hey, there ain't no waves, but when it comes to cruisin' it just cant be beat.

Not to mention only 2 others on the pond.

Bliss.

:-(

Oh no... the saddest day of the year.

Summer is over. :-(

Oh well, only 9 months to go.

:-(

Coronation Beach doomed... ??

When in Geraldton, W.A, we were told that, yet again, a deep water port was planned for Oakajee in order to help export even more of the mineral wealth of Western Australia. Great, but it would also bugger windsurfing north of Gero. And although a lot of people have kinda shrugged it off as "all having been said before", the problem this time is that there actually is a minerals boom that could support it, based largely upon the rapid growth and need for materials in China. And it seems this boom has no end in sight... anyway, deep water port/Oakajee...

Oakajee is pretty much Spot X, a local(s) sailing spot. A port would not only bugger up Spot X, but also ruin the wind and waves at the world famous Coronation Beach, thus making it worthless for windsurfing. Theres lotsa info on the possible impacts at the Geraldton Windsurfing Club web pages.

As a concerned windsurfing citizen, I sent an email letter to the Minister for Planning and Infrastructure, Hon. Alannah MacTiernan. (And so can you... alannah-mactiernan@dpc.wa.gov.au ).

In short I was concerned at the impact upon the coast and windsurfing at Geraldton, and hence upon the local tourist support industry. My letter is at the bottom of this post. I've just received a response (click on the letter to enlarge if you cant read it...) :


Whats interesting are the comments that 1) It will have little effect upon Coro, which is damn hard to believe. Even just one of the massive ships berthed at Oakajee will surely destroy the wind, let alone what the breakwater will do to waves and sand movement (and hence bottom topography and, again, waves), 2) that Spot X is mentioned, which i did not even raise in the email. Clearly this means they know about the fact that this location will be sacrificed and people are not gunna like that, and 3) that they are deferring to the Geraldton Port Authority on this state-based issue. (Like they'd ever want to move away from Gero...?)

I'm far from convinced without seeing the facts. Hopefully we'll hear more. And hopefully more people will be equally concerned enough to write.

My original letter (feel free to use for inspiration) was as follows:

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Ms MacTiernan,

Over the summer months i traveled to Geraldton to windsurf at the (world) famous Coronation Beach.

It was with some dismay that i learnt that a deep water port is planned for Oakajee, just upwind of Coronation. If this were to occur, Coronation Beach, it's waves and it's wind would be devastated.

While this may seem small impact given the vast wealth that will be supported by the port, it would have a hugely detrimental impact upon the local tourist industry. Our group alone consisted of over 20 people, all from outside of Geraldton, who had come for the sole reason of windsurfing the near-perfect break that is Coronation Beach. If this were to be spoiled we simply would not be visiting Geraldton at all, but travel elsewhere to sail, possibly not even in W.A. This would be the same for hundreds, if not more, people from interstate and overseas every year, contributing significantly to the livelihoods of a huge number of locals in "Gero".

If the port were to be located somewhere further north on that stretch of coast, not only would the big mining companies maintain their operations, but so would the mum and dad tourism operators, cafes, caravan parks, surf shops etc who rely upon the influx of non-locals every summer. And of course, I could keep my favourite beach in the world.

I hope that you can consider this request.

Kind Regards,
Andrew.

--
Andrew B. Watkins
windjunky@gmail.com

windmap

Just discovered a great site locator, with lotsa local info.

Would be even better if we can all contribute.

http://thewindmap.com/

Double-ewe-ayy

W.A. Western Australia.

There can be no better place for consistent windsurfing than sandgroper country.

For me this was the fourth trip over on which I sailed, and the second trip to "Gero" - the windy city of Geraldton some 420 km north of Perth. Last time we went it seemed we'd never arrive, having been lumbered with the mazda van of doom, but this time Mistress P put her foot down and we'd gone with a slightly more reputable company, and hence had a van that could actually exceed 80km/h without the assistance of a hill.

We stayed in a cottage just round the corner from last time, in the glorious little enclave that is Bluff Point, only 80 metres from the waters edge.

Sailing, however, was at Coronation Beach, some 25 km up the road from home. "Coro" is famous the world over for its wind and water - flat on the inside and big rolling Indian Ocean swell on the outside. Mostly a jumping spot, but come late afternoon the sharks come out, the wind swings a bit, and theres the chance of a good frontside ride or three. I managed the best down the line ride i have ever had at Coro when two intersecting waves left a little gap between each other that i managed to race up on, squeeze between the low point, and rip a turn back into the face almost immediately, the extra speed pushing me along for a several turn run and a grin wide enough to filter krill.

Of course the trip wouldnt have been the same without breaking something major. In this case, and just like my previous sojourn west, it was my board. On day 2. I was mortified. The thing just went to spooge right infront of the back footstrap. At first i tried ignoring it, but when i landed a jump and the whole thing creaked and cracked like someone breaking kindling I knew we'd entered "possible long swim if you dont stop" territory. I lumbered back into the beach totally dejected. Felt the solft spot. Felt more dejected. Went up to the van and waited or Mr Porridge. I needed a second opinion.
"Whaddya think of this?"
Mr Porridge pressed on the board. It went up and down like a chunky custard. (NB: Boards shouldnt do that.)
"Mate, thats stuffed."

The next day was spent talking to board repairers, shop owners, fellow travellers and generally getting my brain way out of whack for a cruisy holiday. In the end i bit the bullet and just bought a second hand Fanatic Goya Pro Model 81, which i figured that even if i traded it in when i got a new board back home, would still be cheaper than renting for 2 weeks. We'll see how the plan works...

The wind wasnt as kind as last time we were in town, but it still blew well enough to get us out on more days than not, and generally on a 5.0. Of course Murphy's Law meant that the week after we left guys were struggling to hold onto 4.0's. But thats windsurfing - If you worried about perfect conditions every day you'd end up going barmy.

W.A. I love it.

(More piccies on the web....)

Breakwind to Beacon

Firstly, thanks go to the Joelster for the title... it was incredibly apt.

The annual SHQ Gaastra Breakwater to Beacon , from Sandringham YC out and back to Fawkner Beacon, was greeted by nowhere enough wind for me (or sane people) to sail... errr, and the last remnants of my first hangover in about a zillion years (but thats another story, mostly involving a wine and cheese night that included too much wine, not enough cheese). Hence rather than join in the dog-slog out the 8 or 9 km and back I chose to sling the camera over the shoulder, laze on the beach and take some pics.

This proved to be a winner. As despite first place romping home in about 24 minutes, (and Joelster in about 30) the likes of my good and normally faster-cross-the-water friend, Mr Porridge, wandered home in something best measured in geological time. In fact, as we had a bbq we had to cater for, we left in the hope that he'd turn up eventually/the yacht club had a rescue boat handy. (He did/they didnt.)

Fun and games, shame about the wind. See:
http://picasaweb.google.com/windjunky/BreakwaterToBeacon

Mad (Mike) Monday

11/12/2006 Ricketts Point - Mad (Mike) Monday - What a session!

For me (see attached pic) it was the first ever serious attempt at backloops, of which I tried several, and once the fear had (at least partially) gone it was an awesome experience. Everyone seemed to be going for it - at times there were almost more bodies in the water than above it!

Highlights included:

• The waves - they were HUGE, and steep.... and hence,
  
• Numerous backloop attempts from seemingly everyone, with Joel almost pulling off a couple of sail-aways. My over-rotation and subsequent landing on my kermit-the-frog green Zone 4.1 sail - giving it a nice and seemingly permanent knee dimple - actually had me thinking it was possible!
  
• Silly old me again, thinking i was through the gap in the reef, hitting a wave, taking off, looking down and OHMIGOD!! - almost landing ONTOP of one of the reef navigation sticks! (I think i actually glided over it!)
  
• Watching Joel swim for his gear 3 (THREE!) separate times after backloop attempts, which were followed by waves washing over him and sending his gear beachward without him - well it made me laugh!
  
• Listening out for mad Mike and ripped sail - he decided a big tear that would normally end a sane mans session had actually depowered it quite nicely, so he just kept going!! (Hence mad Mike) He must have spent at least 3/4 hour sailing with that bloody hole flapping like a bastard and hence you could hear him a mile off. We think we're going to patent the idea of a velcro pull off in the next line of Severne wave sails....
  
• and the "THAT WAS FUGGIN AWESOME!" banter when packing up in the gloom.

I don't think anyone wanted it to stop!

The other awesome thing is that Wally outdid himself, and sat freezing in the dunes until he neared an Oates-like Antarctic death, taking 146 photos! (yes, one hundred and forty six!!) Included a stack of keepers, which we've popped on the web - check out the pics at http://picasaweb.google.com/windjunky/MadMikeMonday or by clicking on Mike...

Mad (Mike) Monday