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...
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