BurbleChaz

When one has a Proper Job, one must make the most of one's weekends. Yesterday, after a Marmite-related event with some friends, a spot of snorkelling at Shelley Beach was in order. Visibility was low due to the presence of about 347 divers on a submarine archaeology course, all busily measuring the bottom with bits of string. A less decent person would have moved their 'fixed points' a little. But I'm not like that.

Today the surf report was fantastic, with 3-4ft sets and a light offshore wind. The weather was less than ideal. The heavens opened as we crossed to Circular Quay. On the ferry to Manly, the lightning strikes were slamming in all around us. The serious racing yacht crews were not looking happy.

Although the rain had eased as we walked along the Corso, the lightning was still illuminating the horizon. When we got to the beach, I went a bit quiet. The waves at the break were taller than the surfers, most of whom were getting wiped. At this juncture, I may have suggested that this was all a bit silly. I may have mentioned discretion, and its place in valour. Regrettably, The Other Surfer (having read the reports) was carrying a camera rather than a surfboard. Exhortations to man up and get wet were forthcoming. The Long Lens was present, and Photography Comes First, apparently. I asked whether, had the Other Surfer had been carrying a board rather than a camera, she would have been joining me. The answer was instant, loud, clear and negative.

So wetsuit on and into the surf. Normally, I am a bit of a wuss getting in. Whinging about water temperature occurs. Today, I was about knee deep when a head-high wave knocked me over and blasted me back to the beach. Bracing. The southbound rip was so strong that the beach was closed to swimmers. Only rugged surfer-types allowed. Hoo ya. With fins on, going like hell, I made it out far enough to appease my ego. One run back, I thought. The waves, even 100m after breaking, were giving me a hammering. Wait for a clean one, turn for the beach, kick like hell and WHOOOOSH! The world's largest grin attached itself to my face. Sod a short face-saving session. The Sensible Surfer dragged me from the water, exhilarated, exhausted and grinning 45 minutes later. There were pictures.

Zoom.

Crash.

Sometimes, you catch the wave...

...sometimes the wave catches you.

And sometimes, you fight out through the crashing, pounding violence, get to the break and wait. And wait. And then just sometimes, it comes together.

I rode this back to the beach. Perfection.