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Hopes were high as we loaded into Learys Volkswagen. The FNMOC forecast promised 6-9 footers all along the South coast of Ireland and we knew that surely our bone-rattling 30 miles would be rewarded with smooth beauties carrying us effortlessly across the length of the beach. That always is the case though when you're 30 miles away and anticipation gets the better of common sense. If we had tried using the little bit of common sense we have, we would have guessed that the strong northerly offshore which had been blowing all week would put paid to any chance we had of a classic days surfing. Instead we had to face the familiar dissapointment of cresting the hill over the beach to see six-inch ripples flopping harmlessly onto both beaches. Ah well, we might as well go for a paddle anyway. Apprentice surfer Johnny Leary was with us anyway and we couldn't let him down.
The forecast wasn't great but we said we'd head down to Garretstown anyway for a paddle. And sure enough when we arrived the place was a mess. A westerly swell was flopping piddly one-footers on top of each other. This was a party and every sneaker set in the North Atlantic was invited. 'Sneaker City' Eddie called it. We went in anyway and fooled around in the foam for an hour before heading back to Cork for the Boa Morte (Cork country-surf heroes) gig that night. Coming out of the water though we could sense the swell coming around and we knew we'd be back tomorrow.
one day later....
The brain-curdling party in D.J. Shpiders house after the gig last night had us both feeling like wet rags. It was a 50/50 call as to whether we'd go or not but we had to wash those cobwebs out somehow. When we arrived yesterdays predictions proved correct and we were treated to the most beautiful, glassy 4-footers Garretstown has ever seen. If only our fragile bodies had been able to do them justice. After an hour we were completely wrecked and I had more pains than a good-sized geriatric ward. A bit of a waste then, but at least our hangovers were cured.
After the weekly self-abuse last night in the Liberty and Henrys there was no way we could face the 40 minute trek to G-town in Learys van. Luckily I had my new roof-straps with me and we soon had the three boards lashed securely onto the roof of the Corolla which proudly made its debut as a Surfmobile. Not without a word of warning from Larry though who told us to drive slowly because the aerodynamic force exerted on the boards was the square of the velocity. Thanks Larry.
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