It had taken months to get the 5’0 Wedge MPH by Gary Maisch, to Supertubes. I just saw it and said, if I have to surf that place again, this is the board I would choose to ride.
It sounds daunting and it was at first. A 5 foot surfboard. Mmmmm. The first few weeks were difficult, but eventually you get over the handicap and just vok voerted. Sometimes, I would be screaming along and next I wasn’t – the board would just disappear from under my feet. But soon I started holding on tighter and started to appreciate the reduced wetted surface area of this tiny board. And it’s crazy tail. And it’s flatness. And it’s rails. And it’s fins. And it’s rocker…this board flies!
So Dazza and I made our way from jbaysurfview.co.za to the beach, warming up nicely in the summer sun. It was actually baking hot so I figured on the 2mm, but wore the hoodie and Gath helmet that Brucifire gave me, for extra surfers ear and head protection. Like all old salts, we went straight past the keyhole and paddled around via Boneyards – running the gauntlet, which we made and soon drifted into top spot, without a local to be seen.
Since maneuvering to Mozambique and pledging forever allegiance to those warm but lethal sandbars, I even remember once or twice, thinking, or even late night proclaiming, that I might not ever surf Supers again.
But here we were. Me and the fabulous little MPH.
My first wave, second and third were true dreams. Flying down that wall, with 4 and a half specially crafted and slightly flexible Maisch fins guiding you at full tilt, is what it’s all about. Every time I looked down and saw my front foot that close to the front and back foot smack in the sweet spot, I went faster.
Soon though, I had kind of been shut in a bit shallow at the foot of the high tide barrel section above the carpark, a good place to be considering the over amped crowd. And there it was. The one that those testosterone-heads miss because they sit too far out. It’s like a medium one that slips through their clutches but onto that amazing beginning section of reef before the keyhole.
And there it was. The racetrack unfolded in a blur of spray and curves and then I was free and flying aiming at the section right down the point, and the next, and the next, until I reached Impossibles. The wave grew in size and speed and I was keeping up. I thought I was through, I could see the crowd convened at Tubes. As I blasted along, I was sure, I was sure, and then bang, it all exploded in front of Derek Hynds’ old house, and I was at the mercy of Salad Bowls.
A kak place to be in any swell. Went up and over, out of breath, and fully back in the clutches of a very heavy place. Two more sets pushed me closer and closer to the black and ominous rocks. Lucky it was so small. But still got washed up the gulley like a seal. Took a good while to compose and made the dreamlike walk back up to Jbay SurfView, for coffee and stories, hey, and even one nice pic…thanks Bruce!
The board we are all talking about…order one here…
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