My leggie was unworthy of even securing a grommet to a pole with any real conviction. |
The robust six-to-eight foot swell (bigger in some exposed places) that arrived almost unannounced on the East Coast of Australia on Wednesday lunch time and kicked like a mule for 12 hours was not only a pleasant surprise that finally broke the swell drought but also inspired me to beg the question, “Can you claim a duckdive?” I can’t take full credit for these Buddhist like ponderings. A friend of mine known as Fez – with his love of riding solid waves under-gunned, and I manifested the question together.
He spoke of surfing a rather large and untamed right with nothing but a short board and a leash that resembled an old stringy bit of spaghetti. I too recounted a tale of surfing a solid right-hander (mine a secret spot with hungry rocks and a tendency to invite larger waves to close out). My experience at Dee Why Point (whoops, gave it away) was similar to Fez’s due to my leggie being unworthy of securing a grommet to a pole with any real conviction. One spray of human urine and the little rat would break free post haste.
Now here’s the thing, when a situation (e.g. double over head sneaker set breaks right in front of you) arises, those with piss poor leash protection are dutifully required to perform an extraordinary act of duckdiving chivalry. Nine-times-out-of-ten the results are messy, disorientating and painful. Gripping (or in some cases bear hugging) your board and being molested by the plumes under water can leave you mangled and embarrassed. This shame only intensifies when you lose your board in the chaos, come up 50 meters back from where you first started the process tangled with a rather large bloke and his brand new limited edition Wayne Lynch shooter that he was going to keep as a wall piece but felt it should taste salt at least once! Pity it tasted your fin through the deck too.
What if things didn’t go south? Say this time as the bouncing balls of exploding white wash rumbled towards you you push deep, toe the tail of your board to perfection – driving your board a metre underwater with projectile like precision. And then, at optimum depth (only slightly effected by the waves cheap shots) cork your board at the magic moment. Amazingly you’re then assisted by the pounding force of the waves downward bounce and shot up-and-out towards the light on clean 90-degree trajectory. Like an African animal at berth you breach, hair slicked back skin glimmering in our mother oceans mucus…
Adding to your euphoria is the absence of surfers – you’re a sole survivor. Those surfers that were further out and chose to bail their boards are dragged back a good 30 or 40 metres behind. It’s glorious. The perfect duck-dive… Do you fist pump the sky? Give yourself a little hoot? Or literally sit up, look back at the bodies and carnage of those who bailed, and yell, “You’ve got nothing! In your face! In your face!” Despite my passion for the art of duckdiving heavy waves, and my general enthusiasm for beating the odds, I’d vote for none of the above (maybe the little hoot), but I do think it’s a moment to savor and even celebrate – at least internally.
By Col B
Note: Video below for those needing demonstration.