About 10 years ago I was camping out in the bush nearby when an all singin' soul surfin' pot smokin' Jesus freak emerged from the undergrowth with a spare surfboard tucked under his arm. I hadn't surfed in ages but he encouraged me to get back into it and I was soon fully stoked. As I watched the sand whiting flit about under the nose of the borrowed board I wondered what I'd been doing out of the water all these years.
I owe the dude a major debt of gratitude. He even introduced me to the G-spot - the creme de la de da of camp sites in the area which has sadly now been bisected by a boardwalk. We had it several times in peak condition and felt the full embrace of the place which continues to hold a sacred site in my salty sea dog of a heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment