Cold, clear mornings.
04:30. Alarm. Set to vibrate only and under my pillow. Time to get going. Grope around in the dark for merino layers I’d laid out before bed. I can already sense the icy darkness outside. Can’t put the light on in case I wake her. She knows I’m going as usual, but facing up to my guilt at abandoning her for yet another weekend is not appealing. I’ve got hours of solitary driving to mull things over anyway.
Barely three hours of sleep after making sure the van was equipped for all eventualities, checked multiple forecasts, then checked them again. Lay awake stewing over whether I had decided to head in the right direction. Whether I was taking the right boards. What the wind and swell might do, or not do.
Strong black coffee left brewing for a few minutes while I pour the rest of the kettle over the lock on the door of the van to de-ice it and get the engine started.
The dog is standing at the door, looking up at me with doleful eyes then back to the door again. Sorry, boy, I know you want to come and I want you with me, but you soothe some of her weekend loneliness. My loneliness in the van is less important. Next time.
Coffee decanted into a thermos. Final checks: wetsuit, gloves, boots, boards, wax, spare fins, changing robe, binoculars, maps, sleeping bag, down jacket, lighter, knife, battery pack, canned food, bananas, coffee, book, headtorch, dry bags, paper and pen. Good to go.
On the road. Hope the noise of the van running didn’t wake her, but I know it did and she’s lying there with her eyes open. No use in thinking about what she’s thinking.
Cold, clear morning. New snow on the hills. Just a dusting at sea level, but it’s bitter cold. The van’s too old to have a temperature gauge, but when it’s this cold there’s little point in putting a figure on it. Mustn’t get caught out by black ice again. Hope the old van is up to the journey.
With no delays, I should get there at slack water. The reef should work for at least a couple of hours at first light. Pray the bloody wind is lighter than forecast. Check out the window to see how much the trees are moving. Pointless, really, when I’m still 170 miles away.
Definitely worth checking one or two spots on the way. Don’t want to go too far off the road and end up missing the tide, though. What was it Robert Burns said? “No man can tether time nor tide.” I wonder which I’d prefer if I could make a choice. Choices, it’s always bloody choices.
Stop here. Grab binoculars. Jog across the frosty field to get a look from the cliff. Swell showing, definite potential for another time. Wait – was that one worth getting in for? Nah, it’ll be better further on. Fingers crossed.
Check a couple more spots along the coast. More indecision. More warming up in the van after exposure to the biting cold. Skip checking the next spot, I’m pretty sure the swell wouldn’t get in there at this angle anyway. Wasted too much time already.
Last few miles now. I really hope there’s swell. Hope the wind is ok. Few other places I can check anyway. Need to look at the forecast again at some point.
She’ll be awake now. Probably hasn’t managed to get back to sleep. I’ll ring her if I get a chance, if I can get a signal. After I’ve been in the water.
