Wooohoooo

Joeleeee is in Fiji not surfing and Sergio is on the west coast but would prob prefer to be in Fiji… that leaves Zombie, Dub and I to carry the tasty torch down the west coast, but in style. Screw those povy tents, when I'm chillin wit my homeys I want a tennis court, so we hole up at the Lorne Resort for an evening, replete with indoor-heated pool and private spa. On the way there we stop for an afternoon wave at roadknight but on the beach side, the only place we can find where the swell is not getting blown out. The big size and crazy churn near the beach mean that paddling is useless, the only way out is to run 50m out the exposed reef, wait for a gap in the waves, leap into the ocean and paddle like hell away from the rocks. Works well for the first half a dozen times, we catch a few, get mashed by a few but have some fun, but of course once a grommet appears on the reef and tells me to leap off first so he can watch how it's done, the pressure is too much, I miss-step and smack onto the rocks, snap off a fin, get crushed under water by my board and generally make a fool of myself. The kid looked pretty stressed watching but luckily not much more was hurt than my pride. Minimal sympathy from Dub and Zombie but at least the surf shop has a replacement fin.

That evening turns into an odd but extrememly amusing mix of booze, tennis, [whistle], cooking, dub and disc that does not translate well but I think there's some vid around to post later that will speak volumes. Needless to say, a group of inebriated unco's playing tennis at night has comedic potential. Too mangled to wake early (a point that Stubbs will never let us live down) we cruise back up the coast the next morning, trying to find a good combo of swell and wind protection which turns out to be Boobs near Torquay… another reef break with pounding swell onto submerged rocks? Bring it on! At least that is the thought for the paddle out, but unsurpisingly it turns out to be quite hairy out there for relative newbs like Dub and I who eventually retire to the carpak to enjoy the freakish late-May sunshine with some disc. Zombie on the other hand catches a bundle and returns exhausted, screaming for burgers. Anzac day leaves only Bird Rock Café open and at $10 a burger we're optimisitic they should be ok. Sure enough, Bird Rock delivers, that's 3 tasty burgers! Unorthodox turkish buns, fat-ass patties and heaps of salad, an easy unanimous verdict.

Next Step: Rinse, add rest of burger crew, repeat!

Lockie