My parents had recently just flown over from the UK. It was their first time both on a plane and technically abroad, so they thought it would be best to fly to the other side of the world. It was such a special time spending a month showing them all that Australia has to offer.
Goodbyes fucking suck.
I was smart enough to schedule in an extra day of A/L after their flight to cure those post-holiday blues. Since the world has somewhat reopened knowing I could make it back home in 24 hours certainly makes things easier.
Although I surfed during my time with my parents, I took it upon myself to have a whole day dedicated to time in the water.
Since the surf cams are no longer free, I just packed the boards and headed north in hopes of good surf to accommodate the beautiful weather on offer. My first stop was Maroochydore which was spitting out 8 ft chunks of heavy swell closing out all too early leaving a white mass of foam spewing its way up to the beach.
I drive 2 minutes down to The Bluff located on Australia's Sunshine Coast. More sheltered offering lengthy rights all dominated by hectic currents and beachgoers alike. The surf was hitting a slightly favourable 6ft further out so a lengthy paddle would of course be necessary.
It had been some time since I had surfed in my opinion bigger than average waves but I can’t just turn around and go home. The guilt, shame, and frustration of not getting in would have eaten me for days! I tarnish my board with some wax and head on out.
The paddle out wasn’t so bad. I kept sight of the rip dancing its curves along the water and essentially used it for a quick ride outback. The line-up was packed today even for a standard Tuesday, word has obviously gotten out about today's surf conditions. Skipping work, skipping school or simply nowhere else to go, we were all here lined up and ready for a slice of the salty pie.
Usually, I'm no good in crowds, in truth I fucking hate it. I always feel either in the way or a state of panic kicks in. I see someone surfing towards me and I paddle like fuck to get over the top in time to avoid a fin or 3 to the body. Today was different, I knew I had to be here.
The waves were taking a slow and misleading shape, just when you thought a wave was about to break it would just lie down and return to flat fuck all. I propped myself slightly closer to shore in hopes of getting something going.
It got going!
The perfect wave took form and offered me the chance to ride its beautiful fucking face. I drop in and sink right as I continue down the line as the wave just keeps on giving. A few turns later and this wave is still pumping.
After what felt like forever it eventually closes out as I sink to the bottom of the ocean, glazed as fuck, I am high.
That wave reminded me of why I surf.
I spend the next few hours fighting through the rips and catching wave after fucking wave of solid rights. I come back in just beyond stoked. Surfing is literally fucking therapy and what the doctor ordered after having to say goodbye to family.
I am a firm believer you have to have the shit days to appreciate the good days and the same rules apply to surfing. Tedious conditions and limited time have thrown me into a dysfunctional funk about my relationship with surfing these last few months and today felt like the golden ticket!
A perfect day.