It’s that time of year again.Swells have started to move in with some regularity. The weak windswells of the summer have shifted stage left for groomed groundswells but dammit the evenings are drawing in with the synchronicity that our seasons seem to impose upon us in these sceptred isles.
The dawnie is the only option other than the weekends for working class surfers around the globe during the dark months. In urban California this must mean joining countless grumpy commuters in a quickie before rejoining the highway . In the Shire it involves a more solitary half awake ramble down some mossy paths in a sharp wind followed by a ‘f*ckit I’m here now anyway’ type decision to surf the less than optimal conditions that frequently bely magicseaweed’s predictions. The autumnal setting back of the clocks only means that this self imposed torture can continue well into the winter. For me this aspect of my solitary pursuit is one of the most unpleasant but ultimately rewarding times. It is hard to describe the triumph of squeaking into work just on time having seen the sun rise and ridden a few overhead reef waves.
Image courtesy of Damian Fulton