The dawn patrol part 1 – winter

A shrill beeping rouses you from deep slumber. Squinting through the darkness neon numbers display 4:45am. What the hell are you doing up at this hour? Wearily dragging your carcass from the warm pit, trying not to wake your other half, it’s a groggy stumble to the kitchen and hit the kettle’s on button. A deep yawn is exhaled whilst waiting for water to boil. Having downed a quick brew it’s then a struggle into comfy jogging pants, tee and hoody. Finally boots, jacket and beanie complete the look.

Opening the front door an icy wave engulfs your body and there’s a split second of hesitation. A sliver of ice covers rooftops, pathways and windscreens. You opt for the easier option and sit in the van, heaters full power, until the frost clears – it’s not a morning for scraping. Fumbling with the ignition you yawn once more, rub your eyes and eventually crank into gear.

During the journey a less than satisfying cereal bar is munched and you whack up the heating further. Fortunately foresight was employed and a dry wetsuit now awaits. Lashing surfboards to roofbars was also a good call – standing in the chill at dawn’s crack, numb fingers struggling with roof straps, isn’t anyone’s idea of fun.

As you swerve along the ocean approach a damp mizzle descends and squinting through the murk ensures obstacles are avoided. Nearing the destination ruts and pot holes show up in your headlights forcing overzealous acceleration to ease off. Slowing to a crawl you eventually arrive beachside.

On exiting toasty warm confines a shiver jolts as thin mizzle falls from the heavens. Without hanging around, getting soaked to the bone, it’s a quick clamber into winter rubber. There’s a distant groaning of vehicles signalling fellow wave riders approaching. Donning a neoprene hood, second and third cars creep slowly into view.

Brief pleasantries with fellow insomniacs are exchanged before grabbing your trusty stead and jogging towards that distant ‘whomping’ sound. Soft, wet sand makes it difficult to advance quickly and you’re slightly out of breath before even reaching the water. A proper breakfast would’ve helped!

Entering the sea the first line of white water smashes into exposed flesh – a cold, stinging sensation tingles nerve endings. The morning half-light illuminates dark shoulder high lines advancing towards shore.

Lying atop fibreglass and foam it’s head down frantic paddling to the outside. Reaching the take off first shimmers of sunlight appear on the horizon, slowly burning off murk in the process. Visibility improves somewhat and as you pivot your board into position the two surfers from earlier begin their paddle out.

Dropping into to the first of numerous waves that morning you suddenly forget the cold, fatigue and focus on the job in hand: charging some winter juice. Suddenly it all seems worthwhile…