being a surfer and losing condition. the wetsuit zip.
Surfers are not known for exhibiting anything other than an aryan cool, a masterful scorn – they are the celebrated elite. This has been researched and is well known, even the fool with a SUP has a small share of this personality disorder, commonly called The Condition . More so the bellyboarder. Only the body surfer is free of The Condition and long may he reign.
The ocean sport has no rules and no joining fees – it’s open slather out there and egos play with whales. Like with like. This is the environment where The Condition either flourishes or is extinguished forever, because there is no coming back. It’s a cruel world.
What we will examine here are the instances that result in the permanent loss of The Condition.
The wetsuit zip.
A fine afternoon, cold. The bank up in the north corner is even better than yesterday and nobody is out. Dump the boots, out of the car, grab the board and wetsuit and run to the top of the beach. 2 K’s. The closer you get the better the waves look. Flawless peelers, and all yours. Nobody anywhere.
Rest the board up onto the wire, strip off the workclothes and pull on a pair of sluggos, pull the wetsuit up over your shoulders, reach around the back for the zip cord – watch another perfect set slide along the bank – and give it a good tug. So good that the strap breaks, comes away in your hand, with the zip tab.
Have you ever had your car stolen .. ? Some folks look at the place where it was parked for quite some time when they first realise it has gone, hoping that this is an early Alzheimer moment which means that they are looking at where they didn’t park it yesterday, and in a minute they will remember where they parked it today. Right there.
I watched a surfer do that at Mona Vale years ago, he even retraced his steps to the beach and came back a few times, the time-machine trick. He was probably hoping to step back into yesterday. Nice fellow in all other ways. I knew him from somewhere.
– as you were ..
The methods by which a man alone on a beach is able to draw up a wetsuit zip without an attached strap are not widely shared, and asamatteroffact we are advised that there are none, none at all. You are doomed to trudge back to the car (2K’s) and go home dry.
To follow in the loss of condition series:
the brasilian’s loose board
no wax,no fingernails
having a woman know you are pissing in your w/suit
wetsuit roadside browneyes
header is achilles thetis and the river styx by pp reubens
Of course you could run back to the car and get it zipped up somehow, but (this is where it hurts) there are three cars there unloading eight boards and you know where they’re headed don’t you. That’s what we mean, it’s a permanent loss.
Ah, Pete, you have an uncannily accurate eye and an ineffable way of describing what it sees. Brilliant, just brilliant!
settle down stiv or I’ll start writing any old bullshit .. ta but
Yeh, sorry Pete, a bit over the top. I’ll send back half of this month’s stipend….
Sluggos in Iceland with sniggers from the herd… obviously not an option. So close but yet…
I knew a guy who used to ask various “Grannies” at south Avalon to do up his Wetsuit Zip as he headed out to LA. Never was sure about that guy or who he was trying to impress. He has left the village now, but the old ladies at the pool have a faraway look in their eye as they look north on a sunny morning. Some memories never fade!
Yep. I’m familiar with the zip situation and magic disappearing car.
You feel soo stupid as it very slowly dawns that the car really is not where it was left.Then you realise it is getting dark , very cold and you are in a wet wetsuit twenty miles from help.-Langennith 1996.
Your hitting form Peter
Hey Ben, ever had someone bust into your car while you are surfing a little reef break 200 yards away – bastards knew how much time they had before I could get in .. this is for later
Langennith, Wales Septemebr, 1996.Swansea’s finest looked at the surfers stowing their keys. Stole cars at will and abandoned them by the cop shop 20 miles away in town.
Oh yeah I have been there.
Better for it to be gone when you get to the park than to see it going.
Not surfing related but borrowed my girlfriend’s car to do a bit of shopping, after maybe ten minutes inside my little brother and I are walking back to the car when we see it start to reverse out. Takes a few seconds to sink in and then the mist of red rage floods my vision.
I hindsight a calm approach would have been more likely to succeed as I was holding the keys in my hand but the link to my tree dwelling ape relatives was still strong so I decided on the Hollywood block buster approach.
I ran to the window to be greeted by a boy of not more than 15 years who had the same look I imagine I would adopt should I come face to face with a large shark, however he calmly locked the door and hit the gas as I proceeded to introduce my fist to the window. Glass is always unbreakable when you want to break it.
Anyway I chase the car on foot through the busy shopping mall carpark and I’m soon joined by a friend who happened upon the scene. I can’t imagine what other shoppers thought we were doing nor did I care. I was ready for the kill.
The exit to the street was busy as is usual for a Saturday so I thought this is where I get you now punk, but alas like myself my target took the Hollywood approach and drove off a small ledge and over the footpath leaving my friend and I standing in the middle of a busy road watching the car rapidly exit.
A car screeched to a halt beside us and a man yelled get in, we clambered into what was clearly a family car with two young kids firmly strapped into childseats and took off in pursuit of the stolen car through the back streets of a less than upmarket neighbourhood, catching glimpses of the car as its driver tested all of the it’s 1300cc’s of engine.
Anyway the hoodlums knowledge of the back streets gave him the advantage and we were forced to admit defeat and I had to start thinking about how to break the news to the girlfriend that her little red car was now in the hands of another.
Car was found the next day with a clutch ruined at the gates of the rubbish dump. Fixed fairly easily.
What is not fixed is the lingering anger and frustration of watching the car drive away in front of my eyes. This was 15 years ago.
and here’s me thinking all you blokes had guns –
It’s like snapping your board over at South Straddie. That swim back over the bar with half a board dragging behind you is so awkward.
The MacGyver salvage.
What’s that over there? Ah, a marooned lobster trap and a meter of shredded float rope. Now if I only had a needle. To the left a bloated amberjack stinks up the beach scene more than last years rotten booties thoughtfully stowed in the glove compartment. Break a bone free, rig up the needle, seal with a blotch of that beautiful crude lumped on the beach and you’re out there!