Monday 3 September 2012

Kimmeridge rocks!


Kimmeridge is a small town on the south coast of Dorset located in an area known as The Isle Of Purbeck. The land the town sits on is some of the oldest geology in England, dating all the way back to the time of dinosaurs. Accordingly, this stretch of shoreline is also known as The Jurassic Coast and archeologists regularly find fossils of long extinct animals hidden in the rocks and cliffs. 

Kimmeridge is also home to one of the south coasts finest surf spots, Broad Bench. A fast barrelling right hander breaking over a shallow reef. There is currently a campaign active to try to maintain and even increase the limited access surfers have to this wave. The wave sits on the fringes of the Lulworth Army Firing Range and due to this proximity the wave can only be surfed when the Army say it is OK to do so.

Here is a collection of photographs showing the type of rocks that line the Kimmeridge Bay coast, with a few other pics thrown in for good measure.

Timed it just right to follow this tractor clearing the snow.

My friend and I were the 1st to arrive and were greeted by this.



The snow began to melt after the sun came out...
...causing waterfalls to flow all along the cliff...

...and other surfers to appear.
















Museum Of British Surfing

I had a bit of time to kill between surfs last month while I waited for the tide to turn so I went along to the Museum Of British Surfing in Braunton for a nose around.



This was my first visit to North Devon since the museum opened to the public in April and I was keen to check out the collection of boards and other surf paraphernalia on show. 

Situated in the main car park at the heart of Braunton the Museum is well placed to attract the thousands of passing tourists which visit this friendly surf town yearly. Although not actually on the beach, Braunton acts as a gateway to the popular beaches of Croyde, Saunton and Putsborough. Any surfer wanting to learn about the heritage of the sport can easily call past on their way to or from the beach. 

With many items dating back to when surfing was first introduced to Britain the museum has crammed a massive amount of information into their four high walls (stacked to the ceiling with board porn).



The well laid out and informative exhibits made the museum seem deceptively large and a pleasure to wonder around and soak up the history at your own pace. I took me about 2 hours to take in most of what was on offer. But I still felt like I could have stayed longer to marvel at the eclectic mix of surfboard designs on offer.

                       

During my visit there was an emphasis on surf art. The mediums on display ranged from backlit sculptures through to some beautifully finished surfboards. However, my favourite piece was this one. The original Tris Surfboards logo. An amazing amount of detail and something I would love to have a print of.


The Museum Of British Surfing is a must visit for any surfer with an interest in history. But it is equally accessible for all, whether you surf or not. Here's hoping the museum is a success, otherwise we risk losing part of our culture to the shadows of time.

Some more pictures for ye...


         
(yes, thats a cardboard surfboard in the middle pic!)

Thursday 7 June 2012

Back from France

Here's a few pictures I took on the recent sojourn to France.






I'll get some thoughts and words put down if and when they come to me. 

Tuesday 29 May 2012

Off to France

Looks like I'm off to France.

My crazy Welsh mate called today. He's had this week and next booked off for ages and has been bending my ear about getting away for even longer. He's finally broken. Can't take it anymore. There's surf due for the jubilee bank holiday this weekend but it's not soon enough and not far away enough from home.

So we're hitting the road. Booking the ferry as I type. Driving away from near certain good surf and good weather at home in search of foreign shores and slightly sunnier climes.

I'm skint, but he's so desperate to go he's paying 3/4 of the fuel. All I need to sort out is a bit of grub and a splash of fuel. It's not too high a price for a bit of adventure, even if the surf will probably be better back home. I'm looking forward to sleeping out under the blanket of the night sky, to new faces and new places. To new roads and footpaths taking us to destinations of disappointment, euphoria or someplace in between.

Better go pack...

In the meantime, here's a little slice of France I found on Google Maps. Tastier than melted camembert on hot croissants.

To Kbay or not to Kbay

I finished work at 5am on Thursday morning and took a gamble on the 2hr drive to Kbay for what had the potential to either be a memorable day of sun and waves, or not.

At 3am NOAA's buoy station #62103, moored in the English Channel, was bobbing up and down in rhythm with the waves to the tune of 3.6ft & 9 seconds. At this size it was borderline whether the waves hitting the rock ledges at Kbay would be big enough to surf. Couple that with the tide staying high for most of the morning, and I was well aware the extent of my gamble. The odds were against me.

At least the winds were supposed to be favourable, and the weather balmy.

What greeted me when I crested the Purbeck Hills that guard this Jurassic coastline was fog and mist blocking out the sun, howling north winds blowing cold and cross-offshore and a generous 2ft of barely ridable surf that was backing off until it hit the inside reef and then dragged it's way across the shallow rocks.

Two SUPers and a kayak were out on 'The Ledges', and a couple of black blobs were bobbing in the distance over on 'The Bench'. No surfers. Any who had turned up to check the waves in the two hours since daybreak had either taken the best of it or deemed it un-surfable. I lay my back flat to the crumbling cliff face seeking shelter from the biting north winds and watched a few sets roll in. Three bombs unloaded unridden on The Bench. The red military flags were signalling they were about to unload some bombs of their own so there wasn't enough time to get over there before firing commenced and access was restricted.

Having already burned nearly £20 of diesel there wasn't really a decision to make about getting in or not. My decision was whether I was getting in now, before the tide got even higher and the swell got even smaller. Or wait for the tide to drop out, the wind to die and the sun to come out, risking the swell disappearing altogether.

I couldn't risk that so I ran back to the car trying to convince myself that the waves weren't so bad, that that left actually looked quite fun when a good one hit it and that I couldn't let a couple of SUPers and a kayaker take all the waves. I had to get out there and represent.

In the boot of my car I had my newly broken in 6'3" balsa shortboard, the love of my life 6'5" 70's singlefin, and my 7' ducktape dumpster rescue minimal. From the three the one I least wanted to surf was the 7 footer.

Considering the small conditions, I felt like I was bring a knife to a gun fight as I pulled the minimal out.

Due to my recent love affair with my singlefin, I dispensed with the two side fins on the minimal and inserted just a single GR centre fin into the FSC tabs. It would prove to be the making of the session and maybe a turning point in my romance with singlefins.

With the piercing wind in force and the sun still in bed I opted for the warmth of my 5mm thick winter suit over the paddling advantage of my thinner but colder 4mm suit. I hadn't brought boots and gloves, as despite not having surfed the UK for a couple of months, I was sure the water had warmed sufficiently. I found out pretty quick this wasn't the case. The cold water stabbed at my toes and fingers as I paddled out and the sharp spray from the wind on the sea soon washed away any lingering notion that this would be one of those fun small summer swells that last long in the memory. The kind that feeds the gluttonous surf monster that resides within, hopefully with enough stoke to see it through the inevitable flat spell.

Having watched a few sets roll through I was well aware of how close to shore I needed to sit and wait for waves; how the bigger ones failed to break until very close in, and; how I was at a massive disadvantage to my fellow wave-riders on their paddle assisted crafts. To my surprise I was gifted a wave almost instantaneously. The wave was small and the take off quick and it was on my backhand. I opted to pop up to my knees rather than risk blowing the wave. To my surprise the wave walled up and ran nicely along the reef for a 100 or so yards. Already the session was 100 times better than what I was expecting.

For the next hour or so I stayed on that left waiting for the ones that looked like they offered a long ride. Depending on how easily I could get into the wave and set my line I varied between kneeling, laying prone and occasionally standing up. Sometimes doing all three on one wave. The singlefin was slipping out on take off which only added to the fun, especially on the waves which I stayed prone on. On the ones I stood up on I didn't find myself getting hung up in the lip like I normally do on my backhand top turns. I was having a right giggle. Without noticing it, the wind had dropped off and the sun was threatening to shine.

A few people could be seen in the car park checking the waves out. And slowly a few more souls took to the water. The SUPer and kayaker got out. A few kids on foamies drifted through the line up. The left started closing out and then a few rights starting coming through. There were enough waves for all and the sun was spreading warmth and good vibes through the line up. It didn't quite turn into the epic summer session I had hoped for, but as always the surf had worked it's magic, and the surf monster had filled up on stoke and could now sleep well for a week or two.

----

Here's a few phone pics of what turned out to be a cracking fun session. One of my best worst surfs ever. Don't be fooled by how bad it looks, it was probably worse!







Sunday 27 May 2012

Portugal - May 2012

Big thanks to Envirosports for flying me home a few days after my work with them was complete, giving me a chance to grab some warm water waves in the sun. After digging holes in the 38deg heat a dip in any kind of sea and waves was going to be heavenly. Thankfully the gods didn't disappoint and I was blessed with 2-3ft clean waves breaking in crystal clear water with only a handful of internationals out.

The lack of locals made me wonder if there were better waves breaking somewhere around the corner but with gasolina at €1.60 my wallet wasn't in the mood to find out. Especially not after bouncing my way around the dirt tracks of the Algarve looking for the beach breaks I spotted on google maps which would hold the more N orientated swell and also be offshore. What I found was more than enough to satisfy me considering I hadn't surfed for over a month and anything bigger or heavier would have meant less waves and more beatings for sure.

Here's the pics I took on my phone of the surf I stumbled upon...