Nothing really matters
It’s 5:20am on a broken road with a gammy foot, low confidence and that 7’6 on the roof. Humidity fogs the windscreen as another mongrel almost slips beneath the wheel. It’s the swell of the month, a swell beyond my current state, but one that must be tackled. The Stones ‘Gimme Shelter’ fills the cabin. The soundtrack is working.
Later at the cliff under moonlight I see smaller lines than expected – I’m quietly stoked. The only reason I’m here is to sustain a reason before there isn’t one. Nothing more.
As I hang for dawn I note the leaves are fluttering… onshore winds have begun… the west coast ain’t gonna cut it today. With board under arm I crawl up the hill while trying not to mess the ankle. Its time to check what’s happening on the other side at that spot few used to surf.. before the internet killed it.
A few potholes later I’m down at the lookout. There’s a couple of contestants leaning against a tree and a underground surf celeb lurking in the bushes. Eye contact is restricted to composed glances… focus remains squarely on the waves. The conditions are nothing short of absolute gold. Its best I’ve seen in a while. The direction’s perfect and the swell’s size is right. This fickle reef’s gonna shine today… but not now. She needs more tide.. and that’s at least 3 hours away – the outer limit of my non-negotiable surf window this morning. Oh well..
It takes about 2 minutes to defeat the brooding melancholy and understand nothing is bad. The sum total of my imagined hell is purely concerned with missing out on some class waves… but they’ll still be here tomorrow… life goes on… and once you realise – nothing else really matters.