To talk in the line-up, or not?
Recently ADR of The Surfer's Path penned an editorial in favour of silence, not least because of what seems to have been fortunately just a temporary affliction of surfer's ear. I met a local surfer a couple of days ago who said that she, too, preferred total silence, but for different reasons - she liked the time and space to think, and as a beginner, didn't want to be distracted. In contrast, three or four male surfers at Gwenver recently seemed to believe that they were there not merely to surf but to see who could shout the loudest.
Myself, I like a bit of chat, but not too much. I had just the right level yesterday during a surf that ranged from very bad, to OK-to-good, and back to fairly rubbish again. I always enjoy a bit of banter with Allie (who points out, in response to my recent posts about surfing in one's 40s, that round here just three words are needed: 'Pete the Yank', 73 and still going strong) and needless to say, given that I do all my surfing with my elder son Harry, he and I chat throughout a session. But yesterday I also found myself chatting to local surfer PT, who conveyed some news which was a delight to hear.
After a period of dormancy, what I'm told is the UK's oldest surf club is set to reform. The Sennen Surf Club's revival owes much to local characters such as PT, Mick Jackson and Jamo (he of Bilbo fame). I'm not sure if the club has officially been relaunched yet, but the plan is to create a club that merges surfing, surf-lifesaving and general fitness training for surfers in and around Sennen Cove. The area has produced some outstanding surfers - the likes of Sam Smart, Sam Bleakley, James Parry and Jon Buchorski spring to mind - and having a year-round club to serve as a focal point for surfers of all abilities will hopefully help bring on the next generation.
I think I'm right in saying that the Sennen Surf Cadets kick off again next Saturday. Dave Muir has done a great job with them and I know that my sons can't wait for the return of Saturday morning surf sessions. With the Cadets to run over the summer and Sennen's surfing club about to be reincarnated, things are looking good in the far west.
Meanwhile, I hear, although not from the line-up, that the O'Neill Mission has scored some waves over in La Torche, France. This is a wild and windswept spot, or was 23 years ago when I windsurfed it in a force six with head high waves (no injuries but a near drowning and broken mast for Rich and Elliot, out there with me back then). Those were the days. The funny thing is that mentally I still believe I'm capable of the athleticism I had back then, but increasingly the evidence suggests otherwise. At 42 (and eight weeks), no doubt I'll struggle on, ruing the surfing law that says if I'm having a bad surf it'll always be in front of everyone I know (while the good ones go unwitnessed), but never mind: a little bit of chat in the line-up is no bad thing, and I was stoked by what I heard yesterday.
Right, now I'm off to try some brushboarding. The pictures are courtesy of the Cornwall Guide