G-land and I have tightened our ropes. The 11 days I spent there were sick. There was a fair bit of swell, pretty much always overhead. Also, we ended up having a few great little sessions at tiger tracks, a mellow, superfun a-frame where you can surf 30 waves per hour. We were meant to stay for only 4 days, but extended it twice. Greta left on the 7th day, I couldn’t go away from that newly arrived swell, I would never forgive myself. It was going off, I got my 6’6 out on those 8 footers. For my surprise the first day of this swell was the least fun of them all. We weren’t exactly the only people out there. The efficiency of the swell forecasting models these days has virtually ruined the possibility of solitude during major pulses.

I never thought G-land could get that crowded. For 7 days we were pretty much the only people in the camp. The sense of privacy and almost ownership I had developed over the place was now lacerated. No longer was I fucking around in the middle of the reef in between surfs like no one was watching. I never got to speak to myself again while watching the waves from the tower. It was a totally different vibe.