Today was one of those days that wasn’t necessarily good anywhere, although it looked absolutely fantastic at North Chesterman. I mean Magic Seaweed was saying it was 8-12 feet — and it was howling offshore like a mother.
One onlooker characterized the swell as “back-breaking” (or at least board-breaking) material.
Checking the other beaches didn’t net much in the way of clean and decent…
So back to North I headed, to capture the moment on film (well, an SD card, but you know what I mean).
There was one lone dude out. Clearly with balls of steel.
After a few missed attempts, the surfer caught a solid peak, and he was thrust rapidly down the line.
The offshore winds were so strong he began to become obscured from view by the trail of steam-like water blow-off.
You could see him staring directly into the giant wall of water that was about to consume him and shit him out like day-old McDonald’s.
It was one giant moment of glory.
And then it was over.
But the surfer didn’t call it a day and head in.
Before you knew it he was back out there, ready for more, a true surf specimen of a man.