On my way home and a little charm goes a long way...salty wrote:...showin' your age, mate. Gobby is a synonym for headjob. And a fatty... well sometimes you just gotta take what you can getoldman wrote:WTF does that mean? Gobbies off a fatty??stylefirst wrote:Getting gobbies off a fatty at south av beach a few years ago...
share your surfing highlight ( too date)
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- stylefirst
- barnacle
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- Location: is too crowded all year round
- stylefirst
- barnacle
- Posts: 1019
- Joined: Sat Feb 05, 2005 2:57 pm
- Location: is too crowded all year round
On my way home and a little charm goes a long way...salty wrote:...showin' your age, mate. Gobby is a synonym for headjob. And a fatty... well sometimes you just gotta take what you can getoldman wrote:WTF does that mean? Gobbies off a fatty??stylefirst wrote:Getting gobbies off a fatty at south av beach a few years ago...
Last attempt of the night
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^great stuff blokes....i need a bit motivation now the air temp has dropped
haven't picked a winner yet....cause i ain't shared mine yet
nsw rivermouth....couple aprils ago....late arvo...everyones getting out and so am i ( rivermouths aren't the places you surf on dark )
last wave....fair size but i'm out on the shoulder....and about 6 dolphins pop out in front me...we surf together till i scream with delight...they pull off the wave straight away shit , didn't know they would hear me and i didn't mean call em off
regardless....i rate that as my best surfing expernce ever....too date
haven't picked a winner yet....cause i ain't shared mine yet
nsw rivermouth....couple aprils ago....late arvo...everyones getting out and so am i ( rivermouths aren't the places you surf on dark )
last wave....fair size but i'm out on the shoulder....and about 6 dolphins pop out in front me...we surf together till i scream with delight...they pull off the wave straight away shit , didn't know they would hear me and i didn't mean call em off
regardless....i rate that as my best surfing expernce ever....too date
Surfing the Pit down near Ulladulla back in the mid 90's with a few mates. The waves were sick and there was only us out, until a massive whale decides to come hang with us. The whale was hanging about 20m out past the break, so we slowly paddled out to get closer to it. Waves were capping on it, so we started catching them. Our friend Mr whale became our own mobile bommie/artificial reef. It hung around for an hr or so, totally unperturbed by our prescence. We didn't wanna get to close to it, cos it was farking huge, but we were within 10m of it most of the time. It was the Funnest, wierdest and slightly scariest moment I can remember in my surfing life.
NB. Much choofing of banana strings occurred durng this period of my life, but that doesn't effect my recollection of the event. It's the surfing on acid events which were really wierd, but that's another thread entirely.
NB. Much choofing of banana strings occurred durng this period of my life, but that doesn't effect my recollection of the event. It's the surfing on acid events which were really wierd, but that's another thread entirely.
- kreepykrawly
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Train surfing in New York City with some chaos freaks.
One of my partners in crime was an ex New Jersey cabby with some major psychological “issues” and the other was a tough young street kid called Jimmy. He worked as a side kick for a bail bondsman. I heard he died a few years ago in a car accident.
I forgot what the cabbies name was but I will always remember the way he used to lick his lips and snarl at all the hookers on 42 St. Not much of a class act but what he lacked in general finesse he made up for with his raw-in-your-face-humor. I have always found that New Yorkers (more than any other Seppo breed) to have the most similar sense of humor and demeanor to Aussies.
Met both of them at a party and after a PCP bender decided to go training.
Train surfing nights consisted of seeing rats the size of cats ….nearly being beheaded half a dozen times, almost arrested and nearly being run over by a train or two.
I still cringe late at night.
One of my partners in crime was an ex New Jersey cabby with some major psychological “issues” and the other was a tough young street kid called Jimmy. He worked as a side kick for a bail bondsman. I heard he died a few years ago in a car accident.
I forgot what the cabbies name was but I will always remember the way he used to lick his lips and snarl at all the hookers on 42 St. Not much of a class act but what he lacked in general finesse he made up for with his raw-in-your-face-humor. I have always found that New Yorkers (more than any other Seppo breed) to have the most similar sense of humor and demeanor to Aussies.
Met both of them at a party and after a PCP bender decided to go training.
Train surfing nights consisted of seeing rats the size of cats ….nearly being beheaded half a dozen times, almost arrested and nearly being run over by a train or two.
I still cringe late at night.
highlight
Not sure if it counts, but last year, my fave spot had some great banks, especially a nice hollowish left. Anyway, one day i turned up, and while it wasn;t big (a little over head high ), it was peeling beautifully. Can't pick one wave, it was all of them, i had one of those days where you take off perfectly, hug the face, fly off the bottom, carve off the top, then paddle back out, only for another gem to pop up right in front of you, I could do no wrong that day, my feet hit the sweet spot on every take off, all my turns were timed perfectly, and every time i paddled back out, there was no whitewater to deal with, but as soon as i got out the back, another perfect left would be waiting for me. I "pigged" out big time. Was weird, but just briliiant. Best surf ever.
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There's been a few. One early one dates from my grommethood in 1972 when, for some reason I still can't fathom, my non-surfing older sister offered to take me and my best mate on our first real surf trip up the coast.
After being chased out of the water by a shark at Crescent Head the previous evening (but that's another story) we headed off in the morning to Scotts. Just as you approach Scotts you drive over a hill that gives you a glimpse of the point and the bay.
In that glimpse, at that "moment of brilliance", all our grommet fantasies about perfect sand-bottom point breaks were realised. There, peeling from the rocks to the beach for over 100 metres, was line upon line of joy.
There wasn't even anyone out, despite it being the school holidays (though that sort of thing wasn't unusual back then). I've been back to Scotts many times since, but I've never had it as good as that first time.
After being chased out of the water by a shark at Crescent Head the previous evening (but that's another story) we headed off in the morning to Scotts. Just as you approach Scotts you drive over a hill that gives you a glimpse of the point and the bay.
In that glimpse, at that "moment of brilliance", all our grommet fantasies about perfect sand-bottom point breaks were realised. There, peeling from the rocks to the beach for over 100 metres, was line upon line of joy.
There wasn't even anyone out, despite it being the school holidays (though that sort of thing wasn't unusual back then). I've been back to Scotts many times since, but I've never had it as good as that first time.
Had a Saturday morning at Longy a couple of years back, nice and early and just after a storm had moved through. Smooth and glassy as, maybe chest to head high with about 5 guys out. The water was warm and a bit of rain about. You could see the storm moving out to sea and we had this left that was working as well as you could of hoped for a beachy with a slight rip to get back out. We kept waiting for the crowd to turn up being a weekend and it just never happenned. When I finally got out I had a grin for the rest of the day. Best start ever.
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A few years back I was traveling and working O.S. The company I was working for in London had me over to San Francisco for a work thingy in January. Stoked.
While I'm in San Francisco I called up a seppo mate I'd met on my surfing travels years earlier in Aus. He's right into surfing Ocean Beach. He's stoked to hear from me and says 'let's go surf O.B. It looks good for tomorrow". I say great.
It's been YEARS since I'd done any surfing. I'm fit for drinking in London pubs and that's about it. I'm a bit nervous after all the stories I've heard about Ocean Beach.He organises everything I'll need for a surf - board, wetty, booties, hood (it's f'n cold in January).
So I rock up on a cold and frosty morning and we meet down at Lawson Street. It's great to see my mate, and it's also the most perfect surf I've ever seen. It looks about 6ft solid. I get on all the gear and my mate hands me 7'2" - his small board. He's riding his 8'2". The warning bells should have sounded about now.
We get to the beach and tells me "just keep paddling. No matter what just keep paddling". Still no warning bells.
We hit the water. It's freezing. The shorie is big and heavy - easy 6ft.I forget that everything in this part of the world is out of proportion. With all the rush to get out I hadn't stopped and looked properly at the waves.
After paddling for about 2 minutes my mate has disappeared in the turmoil. I'm on my own. I start sh#tting myself but I can see these perfect waves breaking waaaaay out. So I put my head down and paddle.
I'm paddling for 20 minutes and I finally make it out past the second bank. I'm now spent. I must be 500 metre off the beach. I have no fitness but I keep seeing these sets breaking right out the back. They're like cartoon waves. There's no one in sight. I have to take a break. Then I notice what I think is a quiet window between sets. So I go for the 200 metre dash across the outer bank.
It should be obvious what happens now. As I'm paddling for my life the biggest set I have ever seen, and I'm still yet to see any bigger, starts marching in. I'm in the flats just scratching. It comes pouring out of the ocean and on to the bank. A HUGE A frame peak. 15ft and aimed straight at me.
The pointy bit of the lip lands about 2 metres in front of me. I cop the worst beating ever. Then get beaten again and again and again. The set takes me all the way back to the beach. I somehow get through the shore break and onto the sand.
It's one of my most defining days of my surfing and I didn't even get a wave.
While I'm in San Francisco I called up a seppo mate I'd met on my surfing travels years earlier in Aus. He's right into surfing Ocean Beach. He's stoked to hear from me and says 'let's go surf O.B. It looks good for tomorrow". I say great.
It's been YEARS since I'd done any surfing. I'm fit for drinking in London pubs and that's about it. I'm a bit nervous after all the stories I've heard about Ocean Beach.He organises everything I'll need for a surf - board, wetty, booties, hood (it's f'n cold in January).
So I rock up on a cold and frosty morning and we meet down at Lawson Street. It's great to see my mate, and it's also the most perfect surf I've ever seen. It looks about 6ft solid. I get on all the gear and my mate hands me 7'2" - his small board. He's riding his 8'2". The warning bells should have sounded about now.
We get to the beach and tells me "just keep paddling. No matter what just keep paddling". Still no warning bells.
We hit the water. It's freezing. The shorie is big and heavy - easy 6ft.I forget that everything in this part of the world is out of proportion. With all the rush to get out I hadn't stopped and looked properly at the waves.
After paddling for about 2 minutes my mate has disappeared in the turmoil. I'm on my own. I start sh#tting myself but I can see these perfect waves breaking waaaaay out. So I put my head down and paddle.
I'm paddling for 20 minutes and I finally make it out past the second bank. I'm now spent. I must be 500 metre off the beach. I have no fitness but I keep seeing these sets breaking right out the back. They're like cartoon waves. There's no one in sight. I have to take a break. Then I notice what I think is a quiet window between sets. So I go for the 200 metre dash across the outer bank.
It should be obvious what happens now. As I'm paddling for my life the biggest set I have ever seen, and I'm still yet to see any bigger, starts marching in. I'm in the flats just scratching. It comes pouring out of the ocean and on to the bank. A HUGE A frame peak. 15ft and aimed straight at me.
The pointy bit of the lip lands about 2 metres in front of me. I cop the worst beating ever. Then get beaten again and again and again. The set takes me all the way back to the beach. I somehow get through the shore break and onto the sand.
It's one of my most defining days of my surfing and I didn't even get a wave.
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