PSH 12'0" Gun // Review
05 July 2009
By: Andrew Cassidy
Location: Long Reef
Conditions: Light to medium off-shore wind. Triple overhead waves.
Ice cold. Checking the surf from the top of the Long Reef cliff with the pre-dawn wind whistling around me, I realise I should have really popped something thicker on, something thicker than my pyjama top! The time saved grabbing a jacket as I got out of bed doesn't seem nearly as valuable now.
Deep orange and red hues are starting to light up the nor-eastern corner of the sky. Not a cloud in sight. It's going to be one of those cracker, winter days. Well as soon as the sun gets up and takes some of the kick out of that Snowy Mountain originated wind, it will.
I was all psyched to hit Makaha (the Sydney version) after an email from the Goatman last night. We both thought it'd be on. It wasn't. Too much south in the swell meant it was swinging past the point with enough push to not wrap around the tip and light up the series of reefs that make up Makaha. Plan B - Butterbox, which would be copping the full brunt of the swell but might be a little bumpy in this wind. We decided to hit it, regardless. I had the PSH 12' Gun - and I was eager to finally get it out in some juice, so I was more than keen to take on the bigger side of the reef.
After a long walk we came across a little sandy beach between the series of razor sharp, rocky outcrops and decided sneak out through the heavy shorey from there. Some careful planning was required to get out without bringing the big 12 footer to grief on the 30 million old lava rocks and the whomping shore break. Goatman and I were sweet, Dan, on the other hand, had a few issues with his timing and balance, but soon joined us for the long downwind paddle to the take off zone. With the wind at my back and some little runners shooting away from the shore (due to the backwash and strange wrap caused by the scattered mini bomboras), I was powering along on the Gun - and having a ball before I'd even caught a wave.
Butterbox was solid and my first one, nearly double overhead, was a cracker. My first decent sized wave on the biggest PSH and it felt great. To be expected I suppose, this is what this board was made for. The drop seemed to last for ever. Dropping, dropping, dropping then a big, slow backhand bottom turn to be presented with a nice wall racing away into the channel. No time for anything much else except to skim the paddle along the face, get down low and gun it (pun intended). Travelling super fast now, I take an acute line to the top of the wave, get there just as the wall fades out a bit, get onto the inside rail and grind the big girl into an arcing top turn to shoot back down the face again. Another big bottom turn and mini top turn before the shore based rock ledge starts to get a bit close. I skim off the back of the wave just clearing the crumbling lip and ride for another 15 metres on the flat with just my momentum. We were in for a good session.
I got pumped a few times by getting caught in the wild whitewater after cutting back too far. The foam ball on waves that size are difficult to negotiate when they are sitting on the back third of your board.
I saw the Goatman get some crackers on his PSH 9'3" Ripper. I would have thought he'd be way undergunned in that size but he wasn't holding back. The set of the day was almost his, wedging up to at least double overhead, he tried valiantly to paddle over the feathering lip and drop down the almost vertical face. Not quite enough board length in the 9'3" to get it over the edge though and he was left cursing. If it was me, I would have been glad I didn't get it - that would have been a critical drop. Some of the others he got that I saw when I was paddling out looked great - big back hand bottom turns and critical turns in the pocket where he was showing me nearly all of the underside of his board. Ripping.
I got a few more big fun ones and some nice medium ones where you can push it a bit more. We were both on a limited time schedule and we could see some massive beasts feathering on the second bombie, over in the distance. We would have to paddle near there on our way back to the beach so we decided to see if they were rideable.
About half way to the big peak I could see a few prone guys and a couple of standup guys waiting out the back. Then as I got a bit closer one of the standup guys took off and dropped down the face of a massive one. Man, that guy is on a really big board - and man, he's got a nice style. He pulled into this biiiig bottom turn and then was hidden from sight by the mountain of frothing whitewater chasing him down.
I got to the take off zone just as that guy was getting back out there after his wave. It was Tom Carroll (of course) and he was on his new PSH 12' Gun too. We shared greetings and discussed the fact that our equipment was so ideally suited to these waves of consequence. Tom was out there with Matt Grainger (another big wave tow legend) and there was a real buzz in the air. Massive, awesome waves on a sunny Sunday morning.
I knew it was big out there, much bigger than Butterbox, but I was still surprised when the first big set came though. A real, deep water, bombora set.
Unfortunately I happened to be in the perfect position and unfortunately Tom called me onto the biggest one - oh no, I'm going to have to go it. Even though it was much bigger than my level of conscious reasoning could comprehend, I paddled my guts out and got to the top of the lip just as it started to pitch. A weird calmness came across me. I'm not sure if it was the beautiful weather, the smoothness of the double black diamond run ahead of me, the blueness of the water, the fact that a world champion and the heaviest tow chargers in Sydney were watching (and hooting) me in anticipation - but it was surprisingly fun. Usually, I would have just soiled my steamer in that situation. This was the biggest wave I had taken off on in my 30 years of surfing - and I was calm and focussed! I thought some of the drops over at Butterbox earlier were long but this was ridiculous. Very steep and the bottom of the wave looked like it was miles away. This really was a mountain of water that I was riding. A few minutes later, about half way down the face, I gingerly twisted my body to look down the line. I don't think my little adrenaline flooded heart enjoyed the view I was presented with. The wave had walled up to the point of starting to suck and it was feathering a long way down the line from where I was currently standing. Oh crap, this is serious. All my options were evaluated in a split second. I could bail out, dive deep and let that mountain of whitewater behind me, mow me down. I could straighten out and try and outrun it - I am on a 12 footer, but then again this is a triple overhead wave. I decided to go for my third option, draw the line, lock in, think fast thoughts and hope for the best. A bit of pressure on the inside rail and 12-0 Gun redirects, set for the safety route to the shoulder. I'm crouched down, I don't know what the paddle is doing (I don't care about that right now). The board is going fast now, I mean really fast. Really, really fast. It is skimming the ripples coming up the face but holding really steady. I can hear the sound of the whitewater behind me - it is loud, deafeningly loud. There is a beautiful curve to the face - due to its size I can see right from the flat surface in front of the wave, all the way up the face to near the lip. A perfect curve. I could see the curve change shape a number of times indicating the different sections I was racing through. I think there were three major times where, again, I though I wasn't going to make it but just held on anyway. Then, finally, the curve started to straighten out - that only means one thing, I'm through the steepest parts of the wave. Maybe I'll be OK after all! I'm still going at mach speed and straighten up a bit to look around. Yep I've made it, woo hoo. The volume of that thunderous whitewater has subsided and I'm home free. I pull into a big cutback, now that I'm more in my comfort zone and ride out the wave until it dies into the channel.
I paddled back out and tried to remain cool - acting like that type of thing happens to me everyday. Tom, Matt and Goatman all got ones as big as mine and ripped them apart with a lot more confidence than me. I grabbed a slightly smaller one as I wasn't sure if my heart could handle another shot of adrenaline like that. I got some nice turns in on that last one and headed for the beach.
What a morning. What a board. What an experience.