Surf Nation

Tony Plant continues his quest for good times, big waves and cheap medical care

Rumours reach me that Tony Plant has forsaken his Insane Blog thanks to a call from the editor of Pit Pilot. Greg Martin (for it is he) rang Tony, told him to pack his bags and leave the country forthwith. Being a decent sort, Greg got up at 3.00 a.m today and drove Tony to Bristol Airport, so that he could be sure that his mission was accomplished. Greg waved him off and has since been seen wandering around Newquay looking like the cat that got the cream.

But why? What has Tony ever done to make Greg force him out of the UK? Well, it's like this. Tony is just too fearless for his own good and Newquay was too small a town for the pair of them. Actually only half of that statement is true. The answer can be found from even the most cursory of glances at, say, a weather map or, if this is slightly too old school (complicated), the likes of Magic Seaweed. There you will see that a swell of some 36ft, with a 16 second wave period, is set to hit the west coast of Ireland tomorrow. It'll have some wind on it but many of Ireland's jewels will be cranking this weekend. I hear that Tony is in the never-knowingly-under-enthusiastic company of Duncan Scott, and that the likes of Al Meenie, Richie Fitzgerald (pictured) and Gabe Davies will be joining them to tow-surf some epic spots.

This swell, if it turns up as expected, could even be bigger than that which hit Aileens earlier this year, so expect some mind-blowing shots in Pit Pilot  before long.

Meanwhile, here in the far west the wind is getting up, the surf is looking ropey, the rain is pouring and, most surprisingly, there's no sign of the girl from Coconut Girl Wireless. Here she is again - let me know if you see her.

Right, the inferior and superior secret spots both being blown out, I'm off to see what the Cove is doing. Good luck to Tony and the lads, and to anyone else venturing into the sea in the next few days - think before you paddle out.

Thoughts on Secret Spots

I've just got in from surfing somewhere so secret that I can't remember where it is. I was alone in the water for half an hour or so, and was then joined by three blokes. There were no surf babes anywhere at all except for she who appears here courtesy of Coconut Girl Wireless. Yes, that's right, she turned up, paddled out and made a good session even better.

Bet you want to know where this secret spot is now, don't you? Naturally I can't say, because I don't remember, but afterwards I saw a friend, who'd been for a surf at another secret spot. This one is even more secret than the one I can't remember surfing.

At this second secret spot, there were 10 to 12 people in the water, and this makes me think. After a while, the word gets out about secret spots - that's just the way it is. So everyone starts surfing them, forgetting all about inferior secret spots, which can then be surfed in peace and quiet. So in a sense, there is an argument to say that one should point people in the direction of the really, really, really amazing and world-class secret spot on one's doorstep, because then the not-quite-so-good secret spot round the corner will be empty again.

Not that I would ever do that. My memory is shot to pieces and I don't even know where I was surfing today. (But you do appear to know a good reason for running a gratuitous image of beautiful woman when you see one. Ed.)

Onshore Hell. But Two Awards for the Boex Brothers

What a dismal surf we had this afternoon. I'd like to say it was like this image of Rincon but it wasn't. As is The Routine, I picked up Harry from the school bus at Sennen and drove down to the Cove with him and his surfer mate, Mark. A scene of desolation greeted us. That's putting it a bit strong but the sea wasn't a sight for (a surfer's) sore eyes. There were a few lines but actually they weren't really lines, they were more like the crumbling ramparts of a dessicated coconut masquerading as an extra in Waterworld. (What does that mean? Ed.) My suggestion to the boys that we abandon surfing today was rejected, and so out we paddled. It was dreadful. Even when a set came through it wasn't comprised of waves but a series of vaguely connected pieces of chop. There were only two other surfers out and so far as I'm aware our collective wave count for an hour or so was ... seven.

Never mind. I came home to learn of good news for the Boex brothers, Sam and Will, whom I met on a recent foray to the deep south (er, Porthleven). Their brother Jake is a well-known pro surfer and Sam and Will are no slouches in the water either. They impressed me with the articulacy and intelligence they bring to their retail and interior design company, not to mention the very cool fact that as well as working for a wide variety of people and businesses in Cornwall they've also brought their design skills to the aid of Indy Trucks. The duo have just scooped a couple of awards at last week's Cornwall Design Awards, as I found out from the following press release. Good work.

Thunder, Lightning and Big Surf: Danger Bay set to go off

Here is another excellent Slide Cover That Never Made It. It might just be appropriate given the swell predicted for the weekend. Last night Magic Seaweed was showing a little blip way out in the Atlantic that its charts translated into 31ft for Sennen Cove, complete with thunder and lightning. This had morphed post-surf in the car park today into 40ft in some quarters (Harry and his mates), but having just checked Magic Seaweed again (nice new site design) the swell seems to have dropped to a mere 24ft for Saturday, rising to 27ft for Sunday.

Well, whether it's 31, 40 or 24ft, and albeit that that's the measurement on the buoys, there's some serious swell on the way. It'll be accompanied by a hefty onshore wind so lateral thinking will be required to work out which spots will be working.

My money's on Danger Bay, and I am just about to go and play football with one of its pioneers. Talking of betting, did anyone know that at Paddy Power you can get 40-1 for Amy Winehouse to appear in the next Bond movie? And 1-2  on for her to go to rehab? But, at 50-1 for her "to do a Britney and shave all her hair off", the price ain't right. There's more chance of being hit by lightning this weekend at Danger Bay.

Isn't there?

Can't afford a home in Cornwall but grew up there and resent the rich kids driving up the prices? Tough!

The picture here wasn't really used by Roger Sharp for the cover of Slide, but it raises an interesting issue - the ownership of second homes in places like Cornwall. I saw a friend in London recently who didn't agree with one proposal often heard - that of restrictions on second home ownership. "You must never interfere with the market," he said, pockets bulging with his latest City bonus. That's all well and good, said I, but what about my kids and a lot of other locals in Cornwall? The way things are going, they won't be able to afford a garden shed, let alone a house, when they grow up, thanks to blokes like you who buy holiday homes, push the prices up and then pop down here twice a year. "Tough," said my friend, "you can't interfere with the market."

It is tough, indeed. When Karen and I decided to move back to the south-west (translation: when I convinced her that not surfing regularly was No Longer An Option) we were crystal clear that if we were to come back we would do so lock, stock and barrel. No second homes for us (You couldn't afford one anyway. Ed). We made this decision because we feel that if you're going to live somewhere, especially with kids, you ought to be a tangible part of its community and economy. Otherwise villages in rural or remote coastal areas die.

Once here, we found ourselves in an idyllic village that even gets a serious wave every now and then, but which has more second homes than you could shake a stick at. This was a little disappointing. For over a year now I have been known to go round shaking my stick at empty houses and flats (usually at night, when no one is looking), but it never does any good. It's a shame, though, and I can't say I'd welcome yet another City boy with a bonus buying up the flats for sale up the road.

Sharpy's cover nails the problem nicely. But what's the solution? Is there one?

Onshore Bliss and English Football

Today the wave period at Sennen Cove did not exist. In this sense, conditions were classic. Classic England in early-winter, when a lumpy swell turns up but has enough wind on it to mess everything up. But guess what? It was great. Once again, the joy of winter was abundantly obvious as the Sunday crowd was half its usual size. The waves were choppy on the take-off, closed out fairly quickly and couldn't be described as any good, really, but it was fun session that definitely beat sitting inside watching the football.

Talking of which, it is obvious to me that the England football team needs to do the opposite of what the country's surfers do. The latter embrace our maritime status and glory in the fact that we're an island. Trouble is, so do our domestic footballers. They can't seem to grasp that football has moved on from its quintessential English virtues (hard work, physicality, power and pace) to embrace a continental style that entails excellent technique, composure on the ball and an insistence on playing it on the deck. So long as our footballers retain their island mentality, we will remain a second-rate football nation.

Bizarre note: the only instance of skill during Wednesday night's debacle came from the conjunction of David Beckham and Peter Crouch. Beckham, reportedly, loves surfing. Is this relevant? Probably not.

My dog can't surf

But this one can. Radical, if cheesy, chien.

The Gold Rush: It's Back

With huge winter swells beginning to pulverize our coastline, The British Surfing Association's surf experts are scanning the weather charts for the right swell for The Gold Rush, a speciality big-wave surfing event held at Fistral Beach and sponsored by Skinners Brewery. Last year’s inaugural event, reported here by Andy Cox, was a huge success. Spectators were treated to some of the best contest surfing the UK had ever seen as clean 8ft waves (created by the tailend of Hurricane Gordon) pounded the Cornish coastline. In a dramatic final, Jersey’s Scott Eastwood took the £1,000 winner' s cheque with a last minute barrel that earned him a perfect 10 from the judges - not to mention some serious respect from his peers.

The event, which is supported by Restormel Borough Council and the RNLI, is called ‘on’ at two to three days' notice, allowing the near certainty of big, clean waves. For safety reasons, and to ensure a high standard of surfing, the event is invite only, with a field small enough to allow the BSA to run the event in one day, which can be any day of the week.

Karen Walton, National Director of the BSA sums up the vibe. “Last year was the first ever Gold Rush and it was just immense! With the opportunity for us to call the contest at 24 hours' notice to coincide with superb conditions, we can ensure that we’re providing the very best canvas that the ocean can provide and therefore continually raising the bar of competitive surfing in this country.”

The contest date will be announced on the BSA website as soon as it has been decided. Check out www.britsurf.co.uk for more details. The picture here - of Eastwood on his winning wave - is from Newquay local and good guy Tony Plant. See Surf Twisted  for more info.

Extremely large surf at Teahupoo

This is just awesome.

Extreme... Caterpillar Breakdance