Surfing is a sport I am absolutely useless at, but I love it. Watching it, photographing it, going on trips based around surfing and the lifestyle of getting up early to head out in search of the best waves, one day finding nothing, the next lucking out and finding gold. It's a pretty addictive way to live.
We were based in the seasonally sleepy village of Aberdaron & went off each morning chasing the best of the reliably unreliable conditions. Aside from a small group of locals that seem to be out in the water every single day here, the majority of the town seems to have migrated elsewhere for the winter.
Let her know how cold the water is
True to form we spotted her later on the beach, and although she wasn't heading out board in hand to catch the late afternoon waves, she had donned her waders and was heading out into the water all the same. The locals are hard as nails in these old fishing villages.
With the best will in the world and plenty of early morning alarm calls, you can go on these trips and spend the entire weekend staring out at an ocean refusing to offer up the goods…
How it could been waiting out spells of either too flat or messy. we were dealing with the back end storm doris after all
After a few hours of battling rough, messy waves at our first stop of the day, we called it and we made our way back up the hill and jumped straight into the cars, driving fifteen minutes in the opposite direction to try for spot no.2.
The contrast between two places, fifteen minutes apart, was massive. This small secluded little bay seemed too flat at first, but after a short wait the first of many clean (relative to the morning session), mellow sets began to roll through.
After a morning getting battered just trying to paddle out, this afternoon session was just what we needed. We stayed for hours, out of the wind, often in the sun, not believing our luck.