only surfers [think] they know the feeling
The surfer is a righteous fellow, he knows that to surf is to do what is right, some even surf with their forefinger raised, righteously – in contempt of those who do not surf, or those just passing innocently by, and sometimes, in an unerring judgement of his oneself.
It almost becomes religious, how we waffle about waves, when surfing is just about going fast on water. Speedy lines, Richard Cram cutbacks, being belted out of a nightmare cavern by its flying roar of spume. How we do like to go fast.
Then everybody gets old, buys longer and goes slower. The only remnant of those speedy days is all fractured up in the recall. Thirty seconds is too long to remember. Thirty hours is something else.
See the guy at the wheel of the class 40 down there, the boat doing about 40 knots, all day – he’s got grandkids, and likes gardening and old scotch. Thinks a joint is something a carpenter fixes, he listens to Rick Wakeman. He’s the guy who’s last out of the lift on the top floor, and his coffee is being made by someone else. Happy moguls are the ones who go sailing every weekend
Sailing doesn’t have the equivalent of longboards and SUPs, these bastards go fast all their life.
now play it …
header pic is laird, lifted from gopic