point joe online. something mr derek hynd didn’t want anyone to see.

1998.
That’s fourteen years since our man walked along the fishermen’s path under the cliffs at Point Joe. June 1998. On a mission for Realsurf. This was a day so rare that only four blokes managed to get the best out of it. And only only one bloke got the shots.
Our man. Our man Larry.
For eight hours that morning he relayed between his computer at Avalon and his station under the overhang at Barrenjoey as the waves of the century came ashore. Four trips each way before the wind shifted just enough to introduce a complexion on the water.
The first four out were Stretch, Northcott, Mr Hynde and somebody else maybe Lynch the Barton. Mr Hynd was using his aircraft carrier which meant he took about an hour to make the outside. Washed down to the carpark three times and then the long walk back. He is such a trudger at times.
And as beautiful as the sets looked, every one took them by surprise early. This meant that none of the surfers knew how to line it up, which meant that none of them had ever surfed Barrenjoey like this before. So big, so perfect. So Colossal.
Larry spoke to Mr Hynd in the carpark later. He was standing around with Northcott and a few others packing up when he mentioned that he’d seen Mr Hynd struggling to get out.
‘Where were you? ‘ asked DH.
‘ On the cliffs, ‘ replied Larry The Eager.
‘ Doing what? ‘
‘ Taking pics all morning for online and immediate worldwide internet distribution. ‘ .. or something like that.
Then there became a deathly silence all around, as the rancid mantle of outcast settled its greasy skin over our mans’ shoulders. Again.
Later that month an account of the day was published in some surfing magazine or other; a pic of TC grinning like a mad boy with the joey whitewater behind him plus a short word from Mr Hynd where he spoke of the tragedy of having a web-based surf reporter taking pics there on the day.
Lots of phones had been ringing in the carpark that morning. Lots of interest as to who was putting up the images.
Larry the Tragedy. This grave judgement from somebody as unblemished as Mr D Hynd, who by all accounts is a stirling young man, though easy to take down in a second-hand car yard. His cars you wouldn’t rent for $25 a month.
We have no doubt that one day he will be applauded mightily as he rises up to the bright lights of the stage to accept his nomination into the Surfers Hall of Eternal Fame. No doubt at all.
And well done him.
~
– and this is the day, and the day after.
~
hynd image from brett caller blog spot
all joey pics by author
Go Northy…
Three cups , one tiny pea
take a chance
a chance you will see
Three cups and one tiny pea.
PB you continue to overlay & entwine your stories making for many a re read you bastard , great effort this one all sorts of meanings and slights to be found , great distraction over a morning coffee
there’s a book almost, nearly, ready – it goes like this –
Part one: Bloodlines.
Bloodlines
Patience
Shaper builder
Erin and the ideology of hate
The end of Lancaster Road
A bright future in retailing
The rape palace
The house at the top of the pass
Beyond the break
Boys in another land
Tangiers 1964
The maggot
Lonely young bones
Leigh
The smoke
The modelling job
Outward bound: this is personal
Ari Levi and the oranges
Another woman’s bed
His young brother
The late nights
Old roads and river mouths
Part two: Postcards
Postcard from Suffolk Park
The gilltrap
Another history of Bondi
Early is the hour
Part three: The killing rooms
The slaughtermen
The hide room
A home of bones and charnel dust
Part four: Hubcaps for pans
Vastness as a companion
Flame-grilled chicken and potato chip crumbs
Crowdy Head: lobster omelette with mace and red peppercorns
Kevin (The Head) Brennan does breakfast
Feral cats, three-rubber spearguns, and bush omelettes
The holiday van, Tabourie: fresh bream with basil leaves
Fast food – latkes
Flathead with shaved garlic and sprig of thyme
Pan-fried crumbed snapper with anchovies
Surfers who work: what to eat?
The Bawley mixture: grilled sourdough with garlic, chilli, anchovy and tomato
Brian’s resignation speech
Sausages and ginger marmalade
Dinner on the Manning: whiting with honey and chilli dust
Part five: Contact
A lost life
The Jewish kid
The hermit at Point Upright
The country girl
Contact
Norman and his tides
A shared life
The Variety Club bus
Rip and tear
The cow in the culvert
The commodore and his orchard
The shelter
Tasman gales and the sea road to Eternity
There is no peace
New sins
The Rhodesian swimmer
Hell on earth
Reuben and Daphne
The neighbour’s boy
Dark beach
The holy rolling righteousness of haste
West of Byron Bay
Bondi lawman
One thousand years: John’s Eternity
Clyne’s virus, Darwin’s theory
Part six: Under a blue sky and calm sea
The Corso and the passers-by
The hospital wards
The Gibraltar nightclub
The Polverin, Gibralter
The truant
The vacant lot
Euclid, toilet tiles and one percenters
Under a blue sky and calm sea: a walk into the city
La Tomatina
The harbingers of ruin
Sons of Gallipoli
Never marry the bass player
Hard to pick a favorite in that list, plenty to choose from.
picked by a little lady in the business .. she reckons I overblow what a big deal surfers are
Larry, I thought the session in question was the epic NE swell of 2001..?
Could be James, never had a diary. Tracks will have it. Ask Luke, he’s been around here lately.
That was a bit tame, The chapter headings look interesting, not much from the middle years.
That’s the sealed section.
sealed for cryogenics or just plain humidity or a lack of middle ear infection