Sitting in the hotel foyer waiting for the bus. Went up to the station this morning, could maybe have gone out, but very light winds and so I kept the kit dry! Then a stroll back which took longer than we thought, it always does, a shower, and here we are. Oh yes, had to pop back to the local Mistral place to get our loyalty cards stamped - 40 stamps in 3 years and you get a week free or something.
Ended up at the Calema again last night - multiple caipirinhas consumed, long chats about what was probably total bollocks, but it felt good. We ate at Zum Fischermann, which it's a shame we hadn't found earlier. The German owner often catches the fish himself, since his brother runs a tourist fishing boat - yesterday there were no tourists, so they went alone! Huge fillet platter, not sure what it all was but really tasty. Left Calema on my own at 2, got back about 2.30, giggling all the way - Adam had gone an hour before. No obvious side-effects this morning, maybe these are the perfect cocktail! I did drink a lot of water this morning though.
And now I'm feeling cross it's not going to be holiday any more. Damn. It's not easy to get the "living in the present" versus "looking to the future" balance right. And it's the bus shortly, so time to close! Byeeeeeee...
Monday, 9 March 2009
Sunday, 8 March 2009
The Last Day
Well it is really, isn't it? I mean, we're here tomorrow, but the likelihood of windsurfing is small, like the wind forecast.
At least I got out today, on a medium board and a big sail, and planed around a bit, falling off a lot in my execrable gybes. I think I'll be practising a lot on the lawn at some point, because it's the details of hand and foot movements that are making me pause and look in the wrong places at the wrong time. And standing up! The Cribby technique of using the under-grip on the new mast hand helps a lot, but strangely I only do it on starboard gybes.
Adam got out too, as did Albert, since they both rent kit and could go big. Thilo has only his won which is small so he stayed in and ate. This won't affect him much because he's pretty skinny already. No sign of M&F, so perhaps we'll see them this evening. The plan to meet at the TamTam is already coming unstuck, apparently it's closed tonight! We're talking about lobster as a kind of going-away dinner, being expensive and all. Yum. Although something with lots of vegetables would be nice, I'm gagging for a kilo of broccoli.
Finished Revolutionary Road, good book, sad ending but it's like that sometimes. Not sure it was a great holiday read, but I did spend about 10 seconds picking it at Gatwick. I might read it again on the plane, or watch a movie, or play with my Mac, especially some photo sorting and removal.
The harness and wetsuit came back to the hotel, just in case we don't need to go up there tomorrow. They'll be dry which is a bonus, if a bit wimpy compared to Gen's full-on go-for-it attitude. I think my next "furren" trip will be a Cribby one again, because he keeps you at it, leaving little or no room for self-doubt, although I manage it anyway! There was a pretty low spot during the last Margs hol... but I did enjoy it more than this one which hasn't been varied enough really and hasn't taken me out of myself so much in a windsurfing sense. I did try and succeed at duck gybes though!! Be proud John!
Can I summarise this holiday? Mmm, let's try. Big range of conditions, good food. Company ok, although dampened by the dull Dutchman etc. - the first week was good with Gen, and her birthday etc. I didn't make the progress I wanted to, ending up stuck in the usual groove after the first week. That was partly exhaustion, partly the head cold and finally the conditions, which were pretty hairy and badly timed for my cold recovery. But I'm still alive, and there's lots to look forward to!
At least I got out today, on a medium board and a big sail, and planed around a bit, falling off a lot in my execrable gybes. I think I'll be practising a lot on the lawn at some point, because it's the details of hand and foot movements that are making me pause and look in the wrong places at the wrong time. And standing up! The Cribby technique of using the under-grip on the new mast hand helps a lot, but strangely I only do it on starboard gybes.
Adam got out too, as did Albert, since they both rent kit and could go big. Thilo has only his won which is small so he stayed in and ate. This won't affect him much because he's pretty skinny already. No sign of M&F, so perhaps we'll see them this evening. The plan to meet at the TamTam is already coming unstuck, apparently it's closed tonight! We're talking about lobster as a kind of going-away dinner, being expensive and all. Yum. Although something with lots of vegetables would be nice, I'm gagging for a kilo of broccoli.
Finished Revolutionary Road, good book, sad ending but it's like that sometimes. Not sure it was a great holiday read, but I did spend about 10 seconds picking it at Gatwick. I might read it again on the plane, or watch a movie, or play with my Mac, especially some photo sorting and removal.
The harness and wetsuit came back to the hotel, just in case we don't need to go up there tomorrow. They'll be dry which is a bonus, if a bit wimpy compared to Gen's full-on go-for-it attitude. I think my next "furren" trip will be a Cribby one again, because he keeps you at it, leaving little or no room for self-doubt, although I manage it anyway! There was a pretty low spot during the last Margs hol... but I did enjoy it more than this one which hasn't been varied enough really and hasn't taken me out of myself so much in a windsurfing sense. I did try and succeed at duck gybes though!! Be proud John!
Can I summarise this holiday? Mmm, let's try. Big range of conditions, good food. Company ok, although dampened by the dull Dutchman etc. - the first week was good with Gen, and her birthday etc. I didn't make the progress I wanted to, ending up stuck in the usual groove after the first week. That was partly exhaustion, partly the head cold and finally the conditions, which were pretty hairy and badly timed for my cold recovery. But I'm still alive, and there's lots to look forward to!
Saturday, 7 March 2009
And the Roof's Leaking!
An update on the rain situation. Just before we left for the no-wind beach, much later than usual, I stepped in some water on the floor by my suitcase. At first I thought it was coming from the air conditioner, the power had come back on and I'd turned it off after it came on automatically, but no... Pulling my suitcase away and rescuing the Tiree t-shirt, I realised it was coming from a crack in the ceiling. Clearly the flat roof doesn't hold water. This evening it's all dry, so either the sun has dried things out or it's all dripped through and the maid mopped it up!
However, I did attempt to see how much water there was by standing on the veranda wall to look over the roof edge - no good, the sloping porch is lower than the main roof. The main effect was to get into conversation with the recently retired Brummie and his wife sat on their veranda next door, which was interesting from an observational point of view. They have a caravan they go round the UK in, and spend time in warmer climates also. His main interest seemed to be whether or not we had a remote control for the TV, because they don't - we said we did but it wasn't worth it, because it's only Portuguese channels. They spoke of going to eat at the Turtle Shack, which we tried to put them off, since other places in town are much better - they paid 20€ a head for last night's meal here in the hotel, so 8€ at the Compad, say, would suit them better and cost less. They seemed surprised that Santa Maria is safe, and that you can walk around pretty easily. What's the point of all this detail? Not sure really - I kind of felt a bit snobbish about it at first, but hey, he's organised his life, he's enjoying it, what kind of problem's that?? I suppose I'm trying to learn how to do that in a way that is enough for me, which brings me to...
I've been reading Revolutionary Road, the Richard Ayers (like I heard of him before ;-o ) novel that's now a film with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DeCaprio. Wow. Brutally exposing, like seeing one of those preserved, plasticised corpses that that Austrian guy makes. So many illusions revealed, explored, in a totally forensic and I'd say non-judgemental way - you bring your own feelings, morals, illusions and problems to it, which can be hard going. It's about a couple and the people whose lives intersect with theirs, examining their inner life really closely, their dissatisfaction, their resentments and what they do about them. I'll probably read some of his others, this was his first so it'll be interesting to see where he took it. He has some great phrases, very big, powerful, colourful, a novel written with the intensity of youth I wonder? Defo going to see the film!
Oh yeah, today got to the beach, virtually zero wind, A&T sitting looking out, big surf, tough shorebreak, with the waves at the point working well for surfing. To get away from the rather static thing happening I walked down there to see F&M, and watch the surfing close up. There was a broken board that made an ok picture, and an astonishing charnel/midden heap of conch shells, which it was someone's theory that fisherman dump there when they've taken out the meat. Who knows, but plenty of supplies for conch sellers everywhere, once they've polished them up a bit! Some people went out later, and there were some guys trying boogie boarding, but I fell asleep and despite a coffee couldn't raise my game to get out there, which I rather regret. But it was BIG and the run-out to the beach is full of newly-revealed rocks after the pounding of the last few days. We came back here earlier than usual which is ok, apart from the horrible music and show crap going on by the pool for the Djadsal Holiday Campers - Butlins on a desert island (Desert Island Dorks? There you go again...). Time to go buy some more internet time so I can upload this and check on everyone :-)
However, I did attempt to see how much water there was by standing on the veranda wall to look over the roof edge - no good, the sloping porch is lower than the main roof. The main effect was to get into conversation with the recently retired Brummie and his wife sat on their veranda next door, which was interesting from an observational point of view. They have a caravan they go round the UK in, and spend time in warmer climates also. His main interest seemed to be whether or not we had a remote control for the TV, because they don't - we said we did but it wasn't worth it, because it's only Portuguese channels. They spoke of going to eat at the Turtle Shack, which we tried to put them off, since other places in town are much better - they paid 20€ a head for last night's meal here in the hotel, so 8€ at the Compad, say, would suit them better and cost less. They seemed surprised that Santa Maria is safe, and that you can walk around pretty easily. What's the point of all this detail? Not sure really - I kind of felt a bit snobbish about it at first, but hey, he's organised his life, he's enjoying it, what kind of problem's that?? I suppose I'm trying to learn how to do that in a way that is enough for me, which brings me to...
I've been reading Revolutionary Road, the Richard Ayers (like I heard of him before ;-o ) novel that's now a film with Kate Winslet and Leonardo DeCaprio. Wow. Brutally exposing, like seeing one of those preserved, plasticised corpses that that Austrian guy makes. So many illusions revealed, explored, in a totally forensic and I'd say non-judgemental way - you bring your own feelings, morals, illusions and problems to it, which can be hard going. It's about a couple and the people whose lives intersect with theirs, examining their inner life really closely, their dissatisfaction, their resentments and what they do about them. I'll probably read some of his others, this was his first so it'll be interesting to see where he took it. He has some great phrases, very big, powerful, colourful, a novel written with the intensity of youth I wonder? Defo going to see the film!
Oh yeah, today got to the beach, virtually zero wind, A&T sitting looking out, big surf, tough shorebreak, with the waves at the point working well for surfing. To get away from the rather static thing happening I walked down there to see F&M, and watch the surfing close up. There was a broken board that made an ok picture, and an astonishing charnel/midden heap of conch shells, which it was someone's theory that fisherman dump there when they've taken out the meat. Who knows, but plenty of supplies for conch sellers everywhere, once they've polished them up a bit! Some people went out later, and there were some guys trying boogie boarding, but I fell asleep and despite a coffee couldn't raise my game to get out there, which I rather regret. But it was BIG and the run-out to the beach is full of newly-revealed rocks after the pounding of the last few days. We came back here earlier than usual which is ok, apart from the horrible music and show crap going on by the pool for the Djadsal Holiday Campers - Butlins on a desert island (Desert Island Dorks? There you go again...). Time to go buy some more internet time so I can upload this and check on everyone :-)
It's Raining...
Tropical Rain, giant drops that splatter the cobbles and turn the sand into orange peel. And that hardly ever happens here - this is Sal, the island of salt. And now the power's blinked off, about thirty seconds after the rain started, revealing things we don't really want to know about the structure of the hotel electricity wiring. Unless the management team turn it off to prevent anyone having an accident, but that's as scary as the first thought!
Unusually I'm writing this in the morning, after another night that ended up at the Calema. We'd met with Thilo and Albert for food at the Creole Cafe, and I'd had tuna spaghetti again, but should have had yet another tuna or barracuda steak just because of the veg. On the way there I'd spotted Marco and Frederika eating in another place and had dropped off the SD card with their pictures on it, and they'd come round to say hi afterwards, leaving Frederika behind because Marco was tired and doesn't like A&T. Since F hadn't yet been to the Calema, it was a natch!
Once there, a "local" guy, claiming to be a fisherman from another island using his brother's boat, started hitting on me - he got a beer and a cigarette eventually, and wanted me to buy some fish from him for a barbecue. Nice idea, but then it turned into begging, and I had to point out that "respect" for me meant doing something for it not just holding out your hand. He eventually backed off, which was a relief. We got to meet Julian's hard-partying French mates, who have kept him up until 7 or 8 in the morning recently. Ouch. Adam went home, having insisted on more beer than I really needed. Another good band though - great bass player! I wanna be a bass player in a reggae band, as long as I don't have to smoke dope. Plan for 2009 - join or start a reggae band!
So after a brief discussion on German authors, Heinrich Boll, Grass, Hesse and Kafka (an honorary German??) with Thilo and Rika outside the bar, I wandered home. Hanging around near the causeway leading to the hotel was Emmanuel, the guy Adam's kind of taken up with - he's a bit good at that. After a walk and a chat, I ended up parting with 10 Eur for some more trinkets, which are kinda nice but not what I had in mind for the end of the evening. He sleeps on the beach over by the Angulo station, is a Sal native and clearly resents the apparent ownership of shops by Senegalese. Interesting!
And so to bed. Too many dreams, very scary ones that have fortunately faded, and too few hours, now Adam's jumped up ready for breakfast. Bah...
Unusually I'm writing this in the morning, after another night that ended up at the Calema. We'd met with Thilo and Albert for food at the Creole Cafe, and I'd had tuna spaghetti again, but should have had yet another tuna or barracuda steak just because of the veg. On the way there I'd spotted Marco and Frederika eating in another place and had dropped off the SD card with their pictures on it, and they'd come round to say hi afterwards, leaving Frederika behind because Marco was tired and doesn't like A&T. Since F hadn't yet been to the Calema, it was a natch!
Once there, a "local" guy, claiming to be a fisherman from another island using his brother's boat, started hitting on me - he got a beer and a cigarette eventually, and wanted me to buy some fish from him for a barbecue. Nice idea, but then it turned into begging, and I had to point out that "respect" for me meant doing something for it not just holding out your hand. He eventually backed off, which was a relief. We got to meet Julian's hard-partying French mates, who have kept him up until 7 or 8 in the morning recently. Ouch. Adam went home, having insisted on more beer than I really needed. Another good band though - great bass player! I wanna be a bass player in a reggae band, as long as I don't have to smoke dope. Plan for 2009 - join or start a reggae band!
So after a brief discussion on German authors, Heinrich Boll, Grass, Hesse and Kafka (an honorary German??) with Thilo and Rika outside the bar, I wandered home. Hanging around near the causeway leading to the hotel was Emmanuel, the guy Adam's kind of taken up with - he's a bit good at that. After a walk and a chat, I ended up parting with 10 Eur for some more trinkets, which are kinda nice but not what I had in mind for the end of the evening. He sleeps on the beach over by the Angulo station, is a Sal native and clearly resents the apparent ownership of shops by Senegalese. Interesting!
And so to bed. Too many dreams, very scary ones that have fortunately faded, and too few hours, now Adam's jumped up ready for breakfast. Bah...
Friday, 6 March 2009
So That's It...
Not so much "that's it" as in "that's all folks", more like "that's how/why it's done". Arguably it all started with an interesting evening last night, where a great daily special (flaked cod croquettes with beany rice and tomatoes) at the Relax was followed with an hour and a few beers at the Cafe Calema. The Calema is the kind of place where you just know you could find someone who could get the very thing you need, populated by locals, male and female, and tourists, as well as a very good band playing reggae fairly loudly but well. The bass player was 6' 6" with huge dreads, skinny thighs and a very cool attitude, so they must have been good. The only downside was the embarrassing 50+ year old guys hanging around the black local ladies, who weren't having a problem with this, but really... And I'm not talking about me, although there was a group of 3-4 who came in with some English cash-flashers who were absolutely stunning and clearly enjoying their evening-long private joke, and smelling incredible, a mixture of perfume and something else, musky, African... Hmm. Left after three beers and discussed the various people including Fat Pedro and his mate Roberto on the other side of the bar. Even slept well thanks to earplugs - what a great idea! Only the noises and voices in my head to keep me awake now.
And then this morning, lighter wind, sunny, time to go windsurf. Took out a 104 Synchro and 5.7m Ice, and didn't get munched in the shorebreak, because a) it was smaller b) I checked the beach topography before going in and found a spot with fewer stones, so got to sand fast and got away - result! Just blasted up and down, occasionally managed to make a gybe or two, but starting to work out why I don't. Good. Tried to raise my level of aggression generally - it's too easy to pootle along reflectively and not work it. I eventually stopped after an enjoyable 90 minutes, end came in not so cold or tired as previously. Hmm. Food for thought there... and also food for me, since I was hungry by this time.
Slept a bit, then went down to the point to see Josh and some other locals working the break at the point, took some good photos. One of the Brits, Chris, was out there, and I got some good shots of his first wave rides, including the last one where he held in too long, got hit by white water, fell off and took the next 3 big ones on the head, resulting in a broken boom. Josh accepted 80EUR for that, which I guess was nice of him ;-).
Adam bought some more local trinket stuff from Emmanuel, his pet project on the way home, and we stopped at the other Mistral centre for a Happy Hour punch and nibbles. And now I've just copied lots of pix onto various SD cards for folks around, guess I'll have to get wave rider Chris's email because they haven't got any spare or empty ones. Time for updating the blog, checking email and getting out for tea :-) not sure where yet. Oh yes, Julian got in at 7 am, after Jungle/Calema/Late Opening bar sessions... Ah youth. He looked like shit. Apparently!
And then this morning, lighter wind, sunny, time to go windsurf. Took out a 104 Synchro and 5.7m Ice, and didn't get munched in the shorebreak, because a) it was smaller b) I checked the beach topography before going in and found a spot with fewer stones, so got to sand fast and got away - result! Just blasted up and down, occasionally managed to make a gybe or two, but starting to work out why I don't. Good. Tried to raise my level of aggression generally - it's too easy to pootle along reflectively and not work it. I eventually stopped after an enjoyable 90 minutes, end came in not so cold or tired as previously. Hmm. Food for thought there... and also food for me, since I was hungry by this time.
Slept a bit, then went down to the point to see Josh and some other locals working the break at the point, took some good photos. One of the Brits, Chris, was out there, and I got some good shots of his first wave rides, including the last one where he held in too long, got hit by white water, fell off and took the next 3 big ones on the head, resulting in a broken boom. Josh accepted 80EUR for that, which I guess was nice of him ;-).
Adam bought some more local trinket stuff from Emmanuel, his pet project on the way home, and we stopped at the other Mistral centre for a Happy Hour punch and nibbles. And now I've just copied lots of pix onto various SD cards for folks around, guess I'll have to get wave rider Chris's email because they haven't got any spare or empty ones. Time for updating the blog, checking email and getting out for tea :-) not sure where yet. Oh yes, Julian got in at 7 am, after Jungle/Calema/Late Opening bar sessions... Ah youth. He looked like shit. Apparently!
Thursday, 5 March 2009
Hot and Fed Up - Everything Hurts
Came down fairly early to the beach today, after not sleeping very well owing to extremely disturbing post-Paddy dreams. These included weird videos of drink-fuelled car smash victims dissolving to their constituent components, until one burst into flames that spread incredibly rapidly to include me, burning me up, at which point I awoke with a cry and a start. Earplugged Adam slept on.
Eventually selected a Synchro 94l and a 4.2m sail, which required some shenanigans from Calloo, the main man at the station - did I say he's worked for Mistral there for 19 years? Blimey. Once again braved the shorebreak, and once again lost, basically because I hadn't realised that the beach is now comprised of rocks, not sand, after yesterday's bashing, and I couldn't stand up without pain and suffering, so was unable to correct the board's turning sideways against the wave. Bang, down we go, mucho embarrassment, and the board boy helps me out and holds it for me to have another go. This time I made it, just and left in reasonable shape.
Very gusty conditions, another different board/sail combination. too low a boom because I didn't correct it before leaving, and also extremely choppy - like the Solent with large silicon swell breasts once I got "out the back". Anyway, bashed in and out for around 40 minutes, made a couple of gybes (yay!!), missed loads more. In fact I took the GPS which was the coolest part of the day, and clocked a measly 21 knots max speed, and a distance of 7.29 nautical miles. It's extremely hard to go faster in chop, each wave collision saps speed and power, and the gusty wind also makes it hard to achieve the consistency for ultimate speed.
Eventually, wasn't making gybes, and felt extremely cold. A couple of runs before that I'd made the inside and outside gybes, and started to warm up in the watery sun, but hanging around in the water froze me up. Zoomed back into the beach, successfully negotiating the break, and even finding a sandy bit, further down wind from my original starting point - a tip for a tomorrow!
This all left me shivering on the beach, talking to Frederika, segelmadchen extraordinaire. Got dressed, settled on the Angulo couch and basically stayed there the rest of the day. My hands and arms are extremely painful, as are my feet from cracked heel skin, so sailing is a bit distressing once it stops being easy! Ah, the hero undone... It's supposed to be less windy tomorrow. hopefully that will help.
Eventually selected a Synchro 94l and a 4.2m sail, which required some shenanigans from Calloo, the main man at the station - did I say he's worked for Mistral there for 19 years? Blimey. Once again braved the shorebreak, and once again lost, basically because I hadn't realised that the beach is now comprised of rocks, not sand, after yesterday's bashing, and I couldn't stand up without pain and suffering, so was unable to correct the board's turning sideways against the wave. Bang, down we go, mucho embarrassment, and the board boy helps me out and holds it for me to have another go. This time I made it, just and left in reasonable shape.
Very gusty conditions, another different board/sail combination. too low a boom because I didn't correct it before leaving, and also extremely choppy - like the Solent with large silicon swell breasts once I got "out the back". Anyway, bashed in and out for around 40 minutes, made a couple of gybes (yay!!), missed loads more. In fact I took the GPS which was the coolest part of the day, and clocked a measly 21 knots max speed, and a distance of 7.29 nautical miles. It's extremely hard to go faster in chop, each wave collision saps speed and power, and the gusty wind also makes it hard to achieve the consistency for ultimate speed.
Eventually, wasn't making gybes, and felt extremely cold. A couple of runs before that I'd made the inside and outside gybes, and started to warm up in the watery sun, but hanging around in the water froze me up. Zoomed back into the beach, successfully negotiating the break, and even finding a sandy bit, further down wind from my original starting point - a tip for a tomorrow!
This all left me shivering on the beach, talking to Frederika, segelmadchen extraordinaire. Got dressed, settled on the Angulo couch and basically stayed there the rest of the day. My hands and arms are extremely painful, as are my feet from cracked heel skin, so sailing is a bit distressing once it stops being easy! Ah, the hero undone... It's supposed to be less windy tomorrow. hopefully that will help.
Ricky Bounces Back
Like the song says, woke up this morning, but I didn't want to. Still hot, head full - I wish bloody Adam wasn't so hot on the 7 am opening the curtains thing, I might have to kill him in his sleep, especially if he's coughing at the time.
Breakfast - yeah, made it. What's breakfast? A plate of bacon, scrambled egg, egg and ham thing, and some cachupa rica, a thing made with chickpeas that is really tasty, two slices of toast, a glass of amazing red orange juice, at least two cups of tea, and the last two days half and orange and half a grapefruit, cuz the Vit C is a Good Plan apparently. Then collect some rolls, cheese, cake, biscuits, anything I fancy as a snack or lunch, and wrap it up in the paper place setting before scurrying out, hampered by lappie and tucker/snap/McDonalds Happy Meal/<insert local lunch package name here>.
And today was bigger than yesterday - more wind, bigger waves, huger shoredump. BUT, determined to slough off the brain-deadening mush, and buoyed by a gram of paracetamol and 400mg of ibuprofen, not to mention the usual ounces of glucosamine and fish oil, Ricky N decided to Head Out. Yay!! Took a while for chief rigging guy, Caloo, to sort a 4.0 sail, and Luca to deliver another board from the other Mistral station, but eventually I was at the beach edge, primed.
And the fun started. There is almost a queue to get out, since the gap between the under-surf rocks is quite small, and you don't want to be arsing about in the seriously chunky surf with others, thereby increasing the comedy value for the slackers in the relative safety of the shack. The guy in front of me got a bit munched, but managed to get away. Ricky N, however, spotted a potential gap and went for it, on the strange board, in an extremely offshore gusty wind, with a small sail, sized for the honking 30 knots out the back and not the light wind on the inside, with the boom lower than usual thereby reducing waterstart-ability, and got completely munched. Pants. And we are talking munched, to the extent that I was face down under the sail facing up the beach, breathing sand and water while my hands were being lacerated by the newly discovered purest Sandpaper, of approximately paint-stripping grade.
But Gabrie was there to help, one of the surf shack guys - grabbed the gear, asked I was alright, sorted it out, asked if I was alright, and then told me when to go. Another attempt, and I made it!! More used to the board after a few seconds of trying it, slightly more wind, slightly lower break, whatever it was, it worked. Great!! I just wished my arms hadn't felt like lead, and my general enthusiasm been drained so deep by the attack of the munchies...
Now what?? I headed out to sea, eventually getting this fairly small and banana-shaped wave board to plane, and finding the footstraps. Big Wind. And not just in the wetsuit. Hammered out the back, and cheated on the gybe, just fell in. Argh!! And the usual doubts flood in - the board won't lie on the water, the sail's not playing the game, I'm maybe 1km offshore, the swell is Huge, to the extent that it causes a wind-shadow when you're in a trough... But eventually it all lines up and I charge back down the swell heading in again. Try a gybe? Why not?? And the Mistral Beast does its thing - zooms round in a perfect arc, I ride the rails and flip the rig, and I'm heading back out!! Amazing! How does he do that??
This performance (usually without the effective gybe, but hey, once is good in a hefty sea and a wind gusting 11-35 knots as measured in the lower conditions on the beach) was repeated a number of times, with increasing confidence. Excellent!! I'm not rubbish! Ricky is banished! Life is good!! Windsurfing is fun/scarey/hard/life-enhancing etc etc. And some 40 minutes later (since I want to get in through the shore-break with some strength left) I zoom into the crunch zone and manage not to fall off, riding the back of a wave to the beach, remaining standing up and picking the kit up nonchalantly out of the surf like a True God. Brill.
Breakfast - yeah, made it. What's breakfast? A plate of bacon, scrambled egg, egg and ham thing, and some cachupa rica, a thing made with chickpeas that is really tasty, two slices of toast, a glass of amazing red orange juice, at least two cups of tea, and the last two days half and orange and half a grapefruit, cuz the Vit C is a Good Plan apparently. Then collect some rolls, cheese, cake, biscuits, anything I fancy as a snack or lunch, and wrap it up in the paper place setting before scurrying out, hampered by lappie and tucker/snap/McDonalds Happy Meal/<insert local lunch package name here>.
And today was bigger than yesterday - more wind, bigger waves, huger shoredump. BUT, determined to slough off the brain-deadening mush, and buoyed by a gram of paracetamol and 400mg of ibuprofen, not to mention the usual ounces of glucosamine and fish oil, Ricky N decided to Head Out. Yay!! Took a while for chief rigging guy, Caloo, to sort a 4.0 sail, and Luca to deliver another board from the other Mistral station, but eventually I was at the beach edge, primed.
And the fun started. There is almost a queue to get out, since the gap between the under-surf rocks is quite small, and you don't want to be arsing about in the seriously chunky surf with others, thereby increasing the comedy value for the slackers in the relative safety of the shack. The guy in front of me got a bit munched, but managed to get away. Ricky N, however, spotted a potential gap and went for it, on the strange board, in an extremely offshore gusty wind, with a small sail, sized for the honking 30 knots out the back and not the light wind on the inside, with the boom lower than usual thereby reducing waterstart-ability, and got completely munched. Pants. And we are talking munched, to the extent that I was face down under the sail facing up the beach, breathing sand and water while my hands were being lacerated by the newly discovered purest Sandpaper, of approximately paint-stripping grade.
But Gabrie was there to help, one of the surf shack guys - grabbed the gear, asked I was alright, sorted it out, asked if I was alright, and then told me when to go. Another attempt, and I made it!! More used to the board after a few seconds of trying it, slightly more wind, slightly lower break, whatever it was, it worked. Great!! I just wished my arms hadn't felt like lead, and my general enthusiasm been drained so deep by the attack of the munchies...
Now what?? I headed out to sea, eventually getting this fairly small and banana-shaped wave board to plane, and finding the footstraps. Big Wind. And not just in the wetsuit. Hammered out the back, and cheated on the gybe, just fell in. Argh!! And the usual doubts flood in - the board won't lie on the water, the sail's not playing the game, I'm maybe 1km offshore, the swell is Huge, to the extent that it causes a wind-shadow when you're in a trough... But eventually it all lines up and I charge back down the swell heading in again. Try a gybe? Why not?? And the Mistral Beast does its thing - zooms round in a perfect arc, I ride the rails and flip the rig, and I'm heading back out!! Amazing! How does he do that??
This performance (usually without the effective gybe, but hey, once is good in a hefty sea and a wind gusting 11-35 knots as measured in the lower conditions on the beach) was repeated a number of times, with increasing confidence. Excellent!! I'm not rubbish! Ricky is banished! Life is good!! Windsurfing is fun/scarey/hard/life-enhancing etc etc. And some 40 minutes later (since I want to get in through the shore-break with some strength left) I zoom into the crunch zone and manage not to fall off, riding the back of a wave to the beach, remaining standing up and picking the kit up nonchalantly out of the surf like a True God. Brill.
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