After doing a quick drive by of the beaches early, I returned home and downloaded the few dark and dismal images I had reluctantly snapped. It just resembled a smaller version of yesterday’s mess and after studying them for a minute or two on my computer screen, I sent them straight to the trash with one forceful tap of the delete key… I have something better for you.
When the strong southerly hit yesterday morning, I took a trip down to Cape Solander (Ours). With so much east in the swell, a south wind actually blows off shore as the wave bends its evilness harder onto the rocks as it peels along the shallow shelf.
There was no one around when I arrived. The place was completely empty and it reminded me of a decade ago, when only a handful of Maroubra guys and a bunch of local body boarders had it on their radar. The gates to the carpark were also closed, which made it look even more isolated. Apart from the container terminal in the distance, The Endeavour sailing into the Bay to claim Indigenous Australia for England, would not have looked out of place at all that morning.
There were a few nice ones coming through as I waited for psycho surfers, Mark Mathews and Dom Wills to turn up and give it a go. Unfortunately, clean empty bombs went unridden for the next 3 hours, thanks to a temperamental jetski which refused to start for the boys. They finally got out there after lunch but by then the wind had turned ballistic and ruined what could have been a nice little session.
Oh well, there’s always next time.
Billy
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