Goodbye 2013

A year that started in the cold, dark snow of a Swedish winter and ended in the warm, gentle sun of Mexican one. Over 12 countries visited and life changing decisions made, 2013 has truly been one to remember. Thank you to everyone of those who I was fortunate to interact with along the way, most importantly those who supported me in following my passions and welcomed me into their homes. 

Some of the countries along the way.  

I am really excited to see what take shape in 2014, being based in Punta San Carlos and experiencing a lifestyle many only dream of.  To learning new skills and improving old ones. 

Adiós 2013

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Publicerad

That is published in Swedish, though I am not sure I can claim published when it is only a blog.  Either way it is nice to see my photos being used and to get some coverage on one of Sweden's best know windsurfing sites.

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The Meaning of Life

As I wallow in the zesty afterglow of a solid day on the water, my thoughts trail back to a session I had a few weeks ago. It was the first time I had gone out windsurfing since getting back from a trip to the States, there weren't many waves but the wind was enough to make it fun. I had made a few good gybes and had thrown in some duck gybes to test myself, when it suddenly occurred to me, this is the meaning of life. Improvement.

The concept has been rattling around in my head since and the more I think about it, the more I have to conclude that it is that age old question cracked. One first has to consider what are we really asking when we ask, "What is the meaning of life?" I am going to make the assumption that what we are actually asking is, "What is the purpose of life?" Or more specifically, "What is my reason for being?". When phrased like that the answer makes more sense, the aim of our lives, all life is to improve.

Tony during the session that left the glow.

Think about it. You buy a bigger house, a faster car; you are improving your belongings (by traditional standards). You study, you practice sport; so you can improve your knowledge or skill level in your field. You go to the gym, go on diet; you are improving your body, most likely so that you can improve your chances of finding a better mate and therefore result in offspring that have better genes. I guess this isn't a new idea, evolutionists have essentially been saying the same thing for awhile now, evolution is the result of mutation the improves a beings chances of survival and thus its chances of passing on its genes.

This has lead me to conclude that we are happiest when we can see ourselves improving in some area. Ever noticed how self help books are always based around an improved you? The problem here lies in the fact that we are constantly measuring ourselves on a daily or even hourly basis such that the improvements are so minute that we do not notice them. It is like watching a plant grow, if you actually look at it every hour or day, you won't notice that it is getting bigger but if you don't look at it for a week and then check it, you will likely notice a significant difference. The same is true for measuring our improvement, when we take a break from something, our reference to how good we were at it remains the same so when we get back to it we notice our improvement more against that previous reference.

For me this has been the case since getting back on the water after a couple weeks away, not only have I noticed an improvement in my windsurfing but also SUP and surfing which has meant enjoying myself even more and general happiness. So if you are getting frustrated with yourself or down on your purpose in life, take a break, try something new - it is easy to see improvement from nothing to something, more difficult from something to something. When you get back to what ever it was that you were focusing on you will notice the improvement and thus on top of the improvement noticed trying something new you will feel a sense of purpose and renewed enjoyment manifesting itself as all round happiness.

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Final Taste

It is hard to believe that it has been over a month since we closed camp for the winter and tied down anything that was liable to blow away in the dreaded Santa Ana winds. Despite a few days seeming to go on forever, the month has passed relatively speedily, probably due to the various interjections which have broken it up.

The brothers enjoying a longboard session/

To begin we had a couple of visitors in camp. Two brothers who where cycling from San Francisco to Cabo San Lucas with their surfboards, seeking out the perfect waves. They stopped by the camp for a few nights to stock up on food and water before moving on down the coast. I enjoyed having the guys here and it was great to chat to them about their journey and breaking down perceptions of how dangerous the trip was. I relished in the contrast that America still has a travel advisory out against people travelling to Baja, Mexico while the guys were telling me how much easier it had been travelling in Mexico where everyone went out of their way to help and accommodate them apposed to in America where most people treated them like bums. After a couple days sharing waves and even a windsurfing lesson they managed to negotiate a lift in a fishing boat down the coast, once again proving the willingness of the locals to help out where they can.

All closed up. 

A few days after the boys left Kevin, Joey and Tim were back in camp to pick up some gear and to put the finishing touches on the winter shutdown. We put a new roof on the board room from which I am still finding tar spots on various parts of my body and boarded up the exposed areas of camp, leaving it looking somewhat deserted. I took the opportunity to get a lift back to the States with Joey to get my last fix of civilisation for the year. He was kind enough to let me tag along to a weekend away in Lake Havasu, Arizona. While the place was completely dead, they assured me that during season it is the place to be with massive boat parties and scantly clad twenty somethings soaking up the sun. The sun did not make an appearance for us so instead we soaked up the beer in the local bar whilst entertaining the lonely barman with pearls of whiskey wisdom.

With my tan beginning to fade it was time to head back west and pop in at Palm Springs for a couple of days to visit a few friends who were also passing through. I couldn't help but feel that it, like so many other American cities, is a place to check off any extended stay list. Strip malls and cookie cutter neighbourhoods just don't do it for me, if I am going to live in a city it is going to be one where things are on top of each other and I can at least walk to my local pub. Stopping in Palm Springs did afford me the opportunity to catch the train to San Diego which is something I have been itching to do since arriving in the States almost 5 months ago. Okay so it was a bus to Fullerton and then a train but it still made for a scenic journey and gave me just a small taste of what it would be like to explore the States by rail. As I have mentioned before, rail is my most preferred method of travel and I find there to be something extra alluring about American train travel, maybe it is the culture of train-hopping manifesting itself in a more elegant form. For the most part the train hugs the coast, passing by the houses of the movies and the beaches The Beach Boys sang about, stirring up notions of California dreaming and making it a must on anyone visiting the areas itinerary.

I had only intended to stop in San Diego a couple of nights but found myself staying a little longer as I covered the extremities of the city in search of a new laptop power adaptor. The traversing of the city provided a snapshot into the "dirtier" side of America which at times had me had me pondering how a country can be so involved in everyone else's affairs when it has so many issues to sort out itself? This created a bit of a conflict inside me as that part so wanted to run away from the mask of consumerist behaviour back to the solitude of Punta San Carlos while another part enjoyed the bustle, the conversations and the coffee shops. Which leaves me contemplating how I can model a life that allows me to dip in and out of these two personalities as I please?

When the time came to leave San Diego there were difficult goodbyes to say and new ideas and perceptions to mull over on the trip south. So early Sunday morning I trudged, sleepy eyed over the border to get on a bus which would take me to El Rosario where I had arranged to have someone meet me and take me the next two hours to camp. The journey was an easy one, the bus was comfy, come to think of it so comfy that I slept most of the way, and my lift was there as arranged though it certainly affirmed that if I am going to be staying in Mexico, I need to learn Spanish. Fortunately Joey introduced me to www.duolingo.com, which I would recommend to anyone trying to learn a language. I feel I have learnt more Spanish in the week I have been back than I learnt Swedish in the 6 months of living there.

It seems as if in the couple of weeks away winter decided to move in. The days seem far shorter with sunrise around 6 and sunset around 5, nothing like winter in Sweden mind, and there is a definite nip in the air. The wind was scarce for the first few days, but I caught the back end of a good swell and managed to get a few SUPing and surfing sessions in. I have enjoyed both sports, hell I am enjoying becoming a more rounded waterman but it is the surfing that has surprised me. I could go into a whole monologue as to what it is like being out there in the water alone or what surfing means to me but I recently read a post from a friend which sums read far me eloquently than my words. So instead I'll leave you with the link and the words: It really does take only one wave to make it all worth it.

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Baja - Winter Watchman

10/11/2013

Packing up for winter. 

"Who is going to look after Sam all winter?" That was the question that came from most all the guests that heard him asking for attention throughout their stay. The stock answer was "Mark will." Most thought it was a joke, but last week as the last of the visitors set to the sky on their way back home, the reality of spending the winter here in Punta San Carlos came true. All the equipment has been de-rigged and packed away until the guests start arriving again in April, there are no tents to distract the sun rising over the mesa and the waves crash on an empty beach enjoyed only by the odd dolphin or three.

Sam Carlos.

After travelling for seven months and still no idea of where or what next the opportunity arose to take on the role as winter watchman for the Solosports camp, I thought when does one ever get 5 months to do with whatever they please and I had to accept. What is that you say, I have just spent seven months doing whatever I please, how is this different? Well for starters I am not going anywhere, I can't. I am in a camp two and a half hours by dirt track to the nearest town with no means of transport. I have no commitments or schedules to keep and the only means of communication is the internet and even that is limited to 400Mb a day. The only things that demand my attention are the wind, the waves and Sam.

Those who have heard that I will be here all winter have asked but won't you get lonely and bored. To them and those who are reading this I thank you for your concern and offer up the solution of my wishlists page.

Actually I am not completely alone, other than Sam there is also another human here, Tony. Tony has spent 12 winters looking after camp, mostly on his own with only the occasional visitors chasing the winter swell to distinguish one day from another. He seems to have modelled a good existence for himself, working 7 months of the year and having 5 off, I aught to learn how he has achieved this. He will be here until early February when the temperature drops and the winter storms which bring in the big swell start to wane. From then it will be Sam and myself for a couple of months until we reopen the camp to guests. If I survive the winter and haven't turned entirely feral I'll stay on next season to play barman again.

Tony enjoying the waves to himself.

From the few days that have passed since the camp shut down, I think my days will look something like this: Wake up to crashing waves, warm sun on my bed and the incessant begging of Sam for his breakfast. Before I can finishing preparing breakfast for myself, Sam has wolfed down his and is asking for more. By the time he has realised he is not getting more and gone to sleep on his chair the conditions will have been assessed and the decision made as to SUP or surf. After a good morning session a coffee or tea will be in order as the wait for the tide to turn and wind to build is spent enjoying a book or photographs. If a windsurfing session doesn't happen in the afternoon it will be replaced by a bike ride or a sunset surf, perhaps even yoga. In sync with the sun disappearing over the horizon Sam will start begging for his dinner which will prompt me to think of mine. After dinner, the darkness will have convinced me that it is far later than it actually is and I'll turn in for the night, sometimes with a movie to aid my dreams . Wow sounds like I have already got a routine, welcome to ground hog day.

After living in a tent for two months I decided something a bit more comfortable was needed for winter

After 5 months I hope to be a decent waterman and to have completed a number of personal projects that I am working on. One of which I have already started and that is my photography portfolio which can be found at www.luckybeanz.com or on Facebook. Another is trying to convince someone to sponsor me a soloshot so that I can track my waterman progress and get some more footage to hone my video editing skills.

Pondering over a beer.

Most evenings I watch the sunset and ponder to myself how the hell did I get here, in this position? I still haven't quite worked that one out, maybe it is the why not philosophy, it doesn't really matter, I am just grateful to be able to live these experiences. I came to Punta San Carlos for a month of wind and waves and to figure a possible way into the windsurfing industry. Two months on I am still here, I suppose one could say working in the industry. I am excited to see how this shapes me and where the experience will take me, so keep an eye out for the occasional update on life as a beach bum.

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Baja Blur

31/10/2013

Heading home to roost.

After 7 weeks here in Punta San Carlos I can't really tell what happened in which week any more. All the happenings seem to have blurred into one incredible experience. I guess that is part of the magic of this place, time as we normally perceive it doesn't seem to apply and with most leaving watches and cell phones safely tucked away in their tents, why should it? The days now start when the sun peeks over the mesa and heats the tents as if it were smoking bees from their hive and end when one too many fogs have been consumed and the body and mind shut down with the camp lights.

Another day starts atPunta San Carlos

While time doesn't exist for those on extended breaks it surely passes too quickly for those who only have a week or two to spare, I know that was the case for those on the Mat Pritchard Windsurfing Camp where the wind and waves were a bit shy. Despite only having a few good days of water time they managed to fill the gaps with mountain biking and watching windsurfing movies in anticipation of what might be. I think the movies gave some of the windsurfers too much inspiration as they managed to damage both themselves and the boards when out on the water.

Mat Pritchard making some spray.

Perfect timing.

The board graveyard. 

If the windsurfers on Mat's camp where the damage machines, the kiters on the Liquidforce kite camp which followed were the masters of disaster as the two week clinic saw a number of rather long swims and inventive rescue attempts. The best had to have been when one of the pros had to kite a SUP out to sea to pick up a stranded kiter who was then kited back to shore sitting on the nose of the SUP like a gleeful kid. To add to the drama of the week one of the girls on the camp was bitten by a black widow spider that was sharing her tent, highlighting the reality of this place as an adventure spot not for those seeking the comfort of a Tomsons Holiday. Fortunately there was a doctor on hand to provide the right concoction of drugs sourced from various camp members, including my Valium supply, to see her right until the venom wore off.

At some point during my stay I went from being on holiday to working at a holiday destination when I started filling in barman and resident beach bum with the occasional task of photographer/videographer. I've been enjoying playing barman and taking the opportunity to watch the world from the opposite side I am to which normally on, it does help that we do get our fair share of characters down here, all with stories that make mine seem bland. The video makes a change from photography and after using a 7D I am now pondering how to fund an upgrade from my 50D so that I can add to my skill set and start learning the editing side of things. It is a hard one to justify since I am yet to make much from the photography side though hopefully that will change over the coming months as I add more to my new site www.luckybeanz.com. 

The peanut gallery.

Speaking of video, we had a film crew in camp for a week to film an episode for their series Underexposed which is a documentary series about sports photography. The filming coincided with another windsurfing clinic hosted by Tyson Poor and Wyatt Miller both of whom were promptly added to the collection of pro sports people who are featured in the show. I found the show an intriguing concept mainly because I have an interest in how to make a life as a sports photographer. Though from what I could see most of the footage shot was around the main character trying his hand at various sports, then I guess to be a good sports photographer it does help to know the sports you are shooting. 

underexposed - Season 1 Teaser from AirDog Media on Vimeo.

Despite the actual working I have still been getting my fair share of water time which is starting to pay off. On the windsurfing side my wave riding has improved with even a few attempts at smacking the lip albeit all ending in a splash as my timing still requires some adjustment, though what I am most pleased about is the fact that I can now truly claim to have completed forwards. In the last days of the Tyson/Wyatt camp I mange a couple thanks to their handy tips and there were even people around to witness. There hasn't been much surfing going on but I have managed to get some SUPing in and am now using a rather wobbly 7'10" board which should help the surfing too.

Tyson showing some fins

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Back to Baja - Week 2

17/09/2013

The second week out here in Baja has been somewhat slower than week one, the swell dropped off as did the wind for a few days which has meant less time on a windsurfer but this has afforded me more time on a surfboard albeit mostly paddling practice. That said best time for surfing here is the early morning when the sea mist is still hanging low and the wind is yet to set in and blow it out to sea though with the lack of wind and swell there has also been more swill consumed which for me has inevitably meant waking up when my tent gets too hot and missing the better part of the morning session.

Some decent conditions. 

Afternoon smack!

The extended drinking hours have also meant the
introduction of a few drinks to the Solosports bar. The first was the Mexican Omelette which I tried to introduce last year but failed. This time I managed to get Joey and Derek to join me.  The Mexican Omelette requires one to crush a raw egg in their mouth, chase it with a tequila shot and spit the shell out into the shot glass, a feat that very few accomplish on their first attempt so it was no surprise when Joey ran straight to the bin before the tequila touched his lips.  Next, following on from all the time I spent at the Absinthe Bar at Burning Man, I educated the bar to the ways of the green fairy which went down a treat, then anything you set on fire at a bar tends to get the patrons excited.  Finally the drink that gave me my worst hangover of the year was created when Angela came to ask for a Baja Fog after Derek, Randle and I had just had one.  The Baja Fog is a traditional drink down here where one fills the neck of a Corona or Pacifico with tequila and adds a dash of lime which fogs up the neck, this is then downed until the beer at the bottom is reached. So what happens when you have just downed a fog and someone comes to join for one? Well you fill up your now almost half full beers with more tequila and lime and create the Baja Smog, which can only be drunk in one go unless you are a fan of warm tequila which you would end up sipping once all the beer is gone. The night that resulted in my hangover also resulted in the Baja Smog being banned from the bar to become a relic of our memories of that one night in Baja.

Watching the waves. 

Surfing with the locals. 

Anyone for some single track?

Despite the conditions and the hard drinking there have been some decent windsurfing sessions where I have gone out to try some more forward loops. After a few attempts I gave up on the landing on my back and turned to see how much height I could get on jumps out at the bombora. One such session resulted in a bad landing and a slightly tweaked ankle which saw me take a break the day after, something I am sure my body was thankful for. When not on the water, mountain biking has seen some more action and I made the attempt to further my sports photography skills by taking a few shots of Derek and Kevin on a downhill section. This required both a well timed trigger finger, especially when using a flash, and a little bit of stupidity when laying on the top of a bank or under the lip of a jump to get the money shot.  While I got some good shots, I think if I can get my timing and focusing better I get some real gems, that is if my camera equipment will hold up to the dust.

Milliseconds too late for the money shot. 

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Passing Through

03/08/2013

I didn't expect to be in London again but my escape from the bubble and uninformed decision on getting to America via Bermuda saw me stopping there for a week before heading west. Expected or not, I think it is inevitable that I keep returning, London just has that draw and having spent seven years there, a part of me will always want to return.

Walking along the canal

The week was consumed in good company with both old and new friends. It started in relaxing fashion in the burbs outside the M25 where I spent time wandering along the waterways stopping off at quintessential English pubs for pints and nibbles. Courtney, the friend I was staying with even managed to get me down to a driving range, something I had not done for at least 10 years. She was surprised that I could hit a golf ball and I was surprised that I actually enjoyed it, then the beer did help. Having abused Courtney's hospitality for long enough and in the possession of clean clothes I moved into my old flat in Richmond where I felt like I had never left and I must admit it does kind of feel like I should still be there, I guess 4 years there and I have a bit of an attachment to it.

Think I need some work on my swing?

Richmond Bridge

On Tuesday I was fortunate enough to catch a gig by Martyr Electric, a band I have been following for a number of years from when it was just Jamie Martyr and her keyboard. This was the first time I had seen her with the band and I must say it adds a new dynamic, though it is still her haunting voice and taunting lyrics which hypnotised her audience as they enjoyed an evening under her spell.

The guy who lead me into the crypt

Throughout London was at her summery best and I found myself wandering the streets with little cause between lunch dates and sun-downers with my Greek barefoot ways creeping in and somehow becoming a photography project which I now seem to be continuing around the world. The wandering lead me down into a crypt in saint martins fields where I discovered an art project determined to make art affordable to the public by having the public participate. The Lake Sisters sketched me my very own piece to take around the world with me, they wanted to add a pin to a map as to where it would travel too, I told them that would be impossible so they settled for a Bermuda pin then I stole a picture to add to my own project.

Barefoot London photo project. 

Can't beat a summer pint

The highlight of my stay was an evening on the Tamesis Dock, one of my favourite spots in London which introduced to me in love and has created and captured countless memories of all varieties. The evening faded too quickly along with the heat of the sun so we went to find heat of a different kind at Hot Stuff, which used to be a London gem. A tiny one room Indian restaurant with more tables outside than inside and no menu to speak of, hidden in the back streets of Vauxhall. Unfortunately it seems as if its popularity will be its demise as it has now grown into a fully fledged restaurant with plush seating in a new space more than double the size of the original all that remains from the old is the bring your own booze policy. The night was completed by a core contingent at an old pub with some fine Scotch. I must thank all those who made it a fabulous evening.

View from The Tamesis Dock

Andy Lewis

 The week culminated in typical London fashion with a gig by Andy Lewis, who I had met out in Vassiliki, at the Hippodrome Casino in Leicester Square. Andy was on at 8pm and gave us a soulful set of his own work and interpretations of more familiar songs. After Andy left the stage Craig and I decided to stay seated and enjoy our whiskey, to our surprise we were presented with the Boom Bang Circus Extravaganza, which illuminated the reason for us not paying for our front row table when the compère started systematically taking the mick out of each unsuspecting audience member. To avoid the embarrassment of a bearded man in a blue dress rubbing a feather boa around our necks we made haste and started our own tour of the hidden bars around Covent Garden only to find ourselves back at the casino at some ungodly hour which more than likely contributed to the first of my Bermuda experiences.

Leaving London this time felt more final than the last times, the goodbyes were longer and the destinations more distant. I am uncertain as to when I will be back and with the friends that remain there all getting on with their lives, some moving afar as well, I wonder what and who will be there if I decide to return?

The morning after the night before

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Back to Baja

15/09/2013

Derek and Clark patching the sign

Somehow I always knew I would end up back here during this time off but I had hoped it would be under different circumstances. I would have liked to be working here to pay for my stay though when I contacted Kevin from Solosports and he told me all positions were full but he could give me a great deal on a month's stay, I couldn't resist. So after a month in America I met up with Clark and Derek in San Diego for the long drive down to Punta San Carlos where I have already been for what seems like an incredibly short week.

By the time I got to our meeting point at Brownfield airport I had already been travelling for 4hrs by bus and train from LA so for the best part of the journey down here I was asleep on the back seat of the van. By the time I had cleared the sleep from my eyes and got my bearings I realised we were already a good few hours into our trip and would soon be hitting the dirt road that would lead us to the Solosports camp, it was around this point that I found I still had a present in my pocket from my stay in LA. For a country that started the "war on drugs" it is refreshing to see how many states are legalising "medical" marijuana or as I like to say; admitting defeat and conceding that the whole idea of making a naturally occurring plant illegal is a daft one anyway; California is one of those states and my present took the form of a watermelon flavoured lozenge. About an hour later we were standing in the evening light touching up the Punta San Carlos sign and cracking open our first beers readying ourselves for a bumpy ride.

The next couple hours were as surreal as they come. The road had all but been washed away and torn up by the rains a few days earlier, though having driven it countless times before Clark was enjoying bouncing us from rut to rut with his eclectic selection of tunes filing the van. I sat in the back at just the right level of stoned, staring out the front wind-shield watching as dusk turned to dark and thinking to myself as classical music filled my ears, "this is what makes life such a fun ride." It felt as if I was in some surfer movie.

My home for the month

I crawled out of my tent the following morning to join the rest of the guests already there for breakfast. I recognised some faces from my previous stay while others required introduction; regardless everyone came here for the same reason, some of the best down the line surf in the world. The discussion that morning was on how there had been a severe lack of said surf, though as the day wore on a few little bumps appeared and it turned out to be perfect conditions for my first day back on the water. I survived the session to enjoy the soothing properties of a Baja Fog (Beer, Tequila and lime) with only a cut foot and a bruised cheek bone after missing a top turn and connecting with the boom.

Enjoying a fog after a good session

Joey making the ankle slappers look fun.

The rest of the week has seen conditions get better and better and with them my confidence on the water. Yesterday being the best yet with some logo high sets coming in and despite a good rinsing out back at the bombora, I feel my sailing has improved significantly in the first week and plan on attempting the chilli bowl this afternoon.

Derek making the most of the small swell

Windsurfing is not the only thing on offer here, with the wind only kicking in around lunch time the mornings are being filled up with surfing, stand up paddle boarding and mountain biking. My focus will be on the surfing as I have always regretted not learning to surf properly when growing up near one of the best breaks in South Africa. Ye sure I can catch a wave on a long-board, but having Sunny Garcia stay a couple of nights during the week and seeing Derek surfing the point makes me want to use the opportunity I have now to get comfortable on a short board. The time off the water has also allowed me to write a few more blog updates and go through some of my photos from the past few months, though at some point I am going to have to use it to figure out what my next move will be as right now I have no idea where I shall be once my month here comes to an end.

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Windsurfing Vassiliki

13/07/2013

Vassiliki Bay

When I decided to take my career break one of the key activities I wanted to spend my time on was windsurfing and it was such that I booked myself on a month long instructor course in Vassiliki with flyingfish. I decided to do the course because I would like to get into the windsurfing industry and somehow make my passion my work thus I figured training as an instructor would be a good start, but the course also afforded me maximum time on the water with some coaching thrown in for good measure.

The freestyle rack

I arrived in Vassiliki a week before the course was due to start as I had not surfed since last September and wanted to get wet before starting the course. For this I had a stay and play package as I am yet to buy my own equipment (admittedly it is about time I did), which meant I could use the full range of equipment on offer at Club Vass. Vass are one of the only centres around that sell off all their equipment each year and replace it with the latest for the season. This season they had a wide range of Starboard and Fanatic boards coupled with Severne sails. While not bad kit, I was a little apprehensive as I had become rather fond of the RRD/Ezzy setup used at my old club at West Wittering.

Light wind mornings

Riding the tandem

Everyone I had spoken to about Vass had told me of a consistent wind that blows religiously, so on the first day when I got to the centre and the was a light onshore breeze, my shoulders dropped.  Then I heard Jem Hall's words in my head, "Having good light wind technique means having good high wind technique" and picked up a big board and medium sail for some light wind freestyle practice. It was good to get back on a board despite it feeling like a dingy, though it didn't quench the desire to be hurtling along at planing speeds fully committed to the harness. Fortunately after lunch Eric (the name they give the thermal wind there) made a half hearted attempt to show his face. By half hearted I mean 6.0 and gusty, though I had found a 111 RRD Firestorm hiding in a corner and with 6.0 it was enough to get a gleeful smile to appear on my face as I shot past others who had opted for smaller boards. The first week followed a similar pattern with the wind not really filling in to the legendary standards of the tales I had heard, despite this I soon found the Vassiliki ritual of light wind mornings and blasting afternoons. The highlight of the week had to of been trying out a tandem board for the first time, apparently it was a highlight for the spectators on the beach as well and inspired a number of guests to attempt the same feat over the coming weeks.

Blasting in the afternoon

40knts and survival sailing

Week two was something special as about halfway through we had afternoon winds of up to 40knts sometimes gusting more and it was the water sports week in Vass which included putting on a slalom race for all who dared to compete in. I was feeling pretty confident in the higher winds by now so decided to enter the slalom, okay there was a fair share of peer pressure from the flying fish crew. I selected a Fanatic Hawk as my board of choice and a 4.7 sail, I would have gone for the RRD, but in 40knt winds 111l board and my 70kg body would not have played well together. Heading out on to the water all I could think was this is mental, 40knts and a 4.7 normally I would be on a 3.9 or smaller. Despite missing the start flag and starting behind the entire fleet, I had chosen kit well and flew past many of the more experienced sailors, my heart pounding as I struggled to keep the board in the water. Then I hit the first gybe mark and it all went tits up, the wind dropped and I missed my gybe landing in the water. It then took me what seemed like forever to waterstart in the light breeze and I spent the remainder of the race wobbling back to shore while the rest of the fleet had already crossed the finish line. I missed the start of the second race so by the time the 3rd came round I had no energy left, but I needed to prove to myself that I could do this so made it out with the now depleted fleet for one last attempt. The wind had picked up again and I was stacked on my 4.7 so coming round the inside gybe I catapulted myself over the sail and skidded across the water like a dolphin surfing a wave, though despite this I managed to make it around the course and cross the finish line to collapse in a pile on the shore. I had never cared much about slalom before, but after this experience I can certainly see the appeal and the madness... take the biggest sail you can hold on to in the gusts and then add some more, find a board that has footstraps so far outboard that you feel like you are on a trapeze and hang on for dear life, this is what they call survival sailing.



As the weeks moved on and I got more time on the water I moved on to freestyle kit with the 100l Fanatic Skate becoming my board of choice with S1 sails providing a nice balance of power and lightness. With Scott from flyingfish egging me on I found my routine, forward loops on the way out and Vulcans on the way in, well attempting them at least. I found myself struggling to read the chop for my forward loops and my technique needs some work as they look more like cheese-rolls but still I made it further than I have ever before and managed to waterstart out of a couple, which some say means I can claim it, I'm not convinced. When I decided to do the course I never expected to be attempting Vulcans but am so glad I did as the first time I managed to slide I fell in love with windsurfing all over again. I still have a way to go before I land one but hearing that the guys who have stayed out there a few more weeks are now getting them, Í am dying to get back on the water and sliding again.

My Vulcan attempt

Instructor Vulcan

On the whole it was a month and a half of some of the best windsurfing I have experienced and I feel I have improved albeit not as much as I would like. The Flying Fish instructors course, although fairly costly, was a valuable experience and has really made me take serious consideration about living the instructor lifestyle, which if I do, having the Flying Fish name behind my certification will surely be a help. Would I go back? Most likely, the wind was pretty much guaranteed although more gusty than expected and there are plenty of inspirational sailors around to keep you fired up, though I don't think it would be my choice of place to stay, I need waves.

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