One Shot: Dane Loomes.

Here, anyone can feel like a King. By Dane Loomes.

My younger brother and I grew up within a bikes ride distance of this place.

We were lucky because very few other kids can say the same.

We actually kind of lived on the other side of town to the rest of everyone else in the area riding a bodyboard.
The local spots you may have seen appearing more regularly in the bodyboarding media were a good 20 mins drive, or in teenager units, probably 4 hrs bike ride return trip away.
Basically off limits unless someone older was willing to drive.
It kind of sucked living so far from everything and everyone else, but I guess consequently all the years and years of surfing and checking this spot as a bored and isolated teenager has kind of given me the knowledge of what to look for in a forecast to score waves here.
Evidently, what seems so obvious to me though doesn’t get as much as a mention in the thoughts of the other surfers of the area.

90% of the time I am checking or surfing this place I’m doing it solo.

Its funny, when I look at this picture and I see a four foot heaving right bowl, the kind of wave that gets me really really excited.
Is it competing with the 4 knot rip that puts people off?

Is it the close proximity of rocks you sometimes get dragged into, Or is it having to duck dive the washthrough set waves that deters them?

For me the reward far outweighs the risk and I’m straight out there near every damn time.
One very notable thing for me is the surreal kind of a de ja vous moments i get after surfing here on the late arv sessions.
Done it more times than I can count, so I guess that would makes sense.
There I am, time and time again standing in darkness in the gravel carpark dripping wet.
There’s not even a hint of colour from the sunset left because I milked every second of light to be in the water till now.
There’s the odd shimmer of moonlight off the surface as a wave rolls through and a right bowl explodes on the sand.
I’m laughing to myself at the quality of waves coming through.
The amount of waves I’ve just caught. and what makes it the most amusing, as I look around is that not even one single person has seen, or is seeing what I’m seeing.
It’s just me alone in a very magical moment. By myself…
By now the only thing ledgible is whitewash. But who knows how many heaving kegs bowled through to the rocks throughout the night.
Four waves every set means hundreds I guess that not even I could get the pleasure of watching.
While I’d love to stay all night, surfing is done till another day and I’m starving to get home to a cold dinner I forgot to tell the misses I’d be late for.
As I drive over the hill and connect to the “real world”, a bar of mobile reception comes through and the phone dings 4 times in a row with the “where are you?” messages…
My camera doesn’t exactly have night vision, but above is a quick shot from the carpark before paddling out one afternoon.
You get the idea.
No doubt 3 hours later I was there in the darkness, alone and laughing.
Again, it’s a magical place…

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