IRISH BREAKS – GAME CHANGER

Back in 2103 JC, Ross Williams and the Mullen brothers took a wild detour to Ireland after 100mph winds and dangerous storm surges put the mockers on a planned trip to the east coast of England. Their last minute journey led to the discovery of a hidden headland, perfectly positioned to groom a huge swell into a race track peeling point break. The score from that stormy session showed the crew the amazing potential of the point and they returned to base with the knowledge that this normally tranquil spot could be insane on its day. 

Story & Photos JOHN CARTER

Less than six months later, a blip came up on the radar; all the right ingredients were out there brewing in the Atlantic. A huge west swell was marching in on the Irish Coast almost certain to max out most of the usual breaks and accompanied with a rare solid wind forecast, this was exactly the day the crew had been waiting for to plot their return.

“ I could tell by his body language,the way he kicked out at the end of the ride, that he had just ridden a really special wave and it was ‘game on’ !. ”

JOHN CARTER

And so the planning and the phone calls commenced! Shall we, shan’t we, procrastination, indecision, the ‘what ifs’ and all the usual mind numbing lack of decision making frustration  I personally go through until Timo just pipes up ‘we are going!’. That was it, Ross was unavailable for the return but Finn was home in Ireland and up for another shot at this rare chance to score some epic down the line sailing. After checking out the possibilities, the only ferry that would cater for a hit and run mission would be the Holyhead to Dublin overnighter with Stena Lines. A mere six hours in the van from Southampton to the tip of north Wales, a few hours on the ferry and then a four hour drive at the other end to the wild west coast in late January, easy!

I’m not sure what draws me to these mad missions but after years of trudging backwards and forwards to Ireland, I still feel I want to be a part of any big wave chase and sometimes it is much better to go than to sit at home wondering if the guys are scoring or not. When you travel over twenty four hours to a spot and it’s not happening, it’s not like you can just turn around and quickly head back home. This is a commitment, a huge amount of speculation and after many years, the calls you make are hopefully more calculated than just going on a whim. This time round we arrived at the break, in a real state of apprehension, this gamble was a pretty hefty one and when I saw clean lines with the wind just starting to fill in, I was actually even more nervous that this might be a ‘teaser’ and one of those days where the conditions are right on the edge. After an hour or so playing the waiting game, Timo was out there, dropping into his first wave, it was clean as a whistle and loaded with power. I could tell by his body language, the way he kicked out at the end of the ride, that he had just ridden a really special wave and it was ‘game on’ !. Finn and Katie McAnena were soon to follow catching a golden window of sunshine, wind and perfect waves. A huge rain squall with its associated rainbow eventually marked the end of the magical session but for those few hours it was world class out there and a stand out session amongst all my years

FINN MULLEN

I remember watching a surf video from Ireland, the star was a grizzled ex pat shaper with a face full of foam dust and a laid back lilt from a low stress life of cutbacks and concaves. Amongst his gems of one liners was a tale that summed up life for wave and weather watchers on the battered west coast where he lived. His story was one that anyone that studies windguru can relate to, when he first arrived he couldn’t believe how good the forecast was, every day he’d get up early to catch these perfect waves;  the catch ? – they never arrived.

I always keep an open mind or more importantly a van full of windsurfers and sups when it comes to perfect forecasts. I used to feel pressure when people asked me what conditions would be like but since having to make the call on flying a team of 50 to Ireland for the Red Bull Storm chase, a phone call from Timo and JC is easy breezy !. By the way that shaper from the surf vid, I didn’t explain the ending, he stopped getting up early, stopped watching forecasts and just surfed when he looked outside and saw it was good, pretty simple formula but one my brother and I have yet to work out.

My theory is every day on the water is a good day, Timo, well he would never lie in, as for JC, he’s the worker, the gold hunter who never stops sifting through the mud. Together we frustrate partners and any reasonable logic to chase those rare day of days even though we know we’ve been skunked more than we’ve scored – its the windsurfer logic – its always worth it! The beauty of this spot is that it is so far out of the way, there’s no surf report, no webcam, no nearby indicators, the approach is all wild fields and empty countryside and anticipation grows with every corner.

When we arrived to set upon set of wind fanned perfect left handers we were so amped up we could barely rig. The excitement leads to a litany of errors like wetsuit on the wrong foot and harness upside down, all while JC tells a tale of how Polakow would be out there already. I remind JC that Polakow’s idea of cold is how chilled his Red Bull is, Polakow would have already tried to drown him twice before breakfast on his jet ski and that oh yeah, Timo is already out there ! JC drops his camera bag running or rather tripping to the rocks to catch Timo’s first wave, his tripod hits him perfectly between his legs as his brand new trainers land knee deep in freshly laid mud that smells suspiciously not very muddy. I lend him my wellies even though I feel Polakow wouldn’t while my half rigged sail flys like an uncontrolled kite towards the closest barbed wire Murphy’s law can find.

If you have ever windsurfed in some tropical PWA paradise where the local rippers rig effortlessly in the sun, have cool clothes, sick polished trucks and hot girlfriends who kiss them goodbye before they do a double Goita while rubbing suntan on their shoulders, this is not one of these scenes. My sail is flapping on a fence, the van is a darker shade of muck, our clothes are soaking wet, cool no, cold yes and the only thing I want from my girlfriend is a hot cuppa and some Deep Heat on my nose to lessen the hypothermic snot forming. The one thing that is the same but is the waves, I’ve never been to Punta Preta but hold a mirror to it and leave the AC on max for 5 years and that’s what it looks and feels like out there today.

The waves are so butter smooth I know I can rig a small sail, my favourite 4.4 S1 and opt for my Kode 82 twin for a little bit of float out the back. There’s so much period to the swell that riding a super-fast board like the Kode looks like the only way to keep up with the speed of the wave. As I launch Timo hits a perfect lip at Mach speed and boosts an insanely high aerial and an even more amazing landing back down the face. I smile knowing I’m probably not going to get an air like that but seeing it in the flesh by your brother, well that’s just as good a feeling too. My first wave I couldn’t believe how smooth it was, butter seems the obvious comparison but most butter I know clogs your arteries, is a bit fatty and not very good for you. This butter however was oozing adrenaline; fat?, no way,  it was a face loaded with muscle. Bad for  you ?, yes it was, I knew I was going to stay out until I couldn’t move anymore and bore the booties off anyone for the next 10 days telling them how good it was.

As I kicked out I watched Irish ripper Katie McAnena drop down another bomb, I couldn’t believe how fast she was going, it was the only way you could keep pace with the freight train of the wave and after a couple of rail blistering turns she soon joined us in the channel for a chorus of screams that only windsurfers can communicate with in times of joy and normal people reserve for new iPhone launches. If you windsurf for no other reason than to escape iPhones and normal people then this day was for you. Three of us on the water, not a soul in sight and only the noise of waves breaking perfectly and your fins humming happily as they slice and speed  to the peak of their design.

Windsurfing waves like these is actually a pretty simple formula, unlike our shaper friend though you just have to keep getting up early, keep looking at forecasts and keep waiting for those perfect waves because one day they do come, it’s the windsurf logic and on this cold but perfect January day it was so worth it!

“ my heart rose as I turned down the final pothole ridden road to a view of a worldclass left hander peeling across the bay with the sun beating down ”

KATIE MCANENA 

At 8am I set out North from my home in Galway to catch up with JC, Timo and Finn. The plan was to sail a notoriously fickle break that the boys had scored in December and were keen to catch again. As a spot, it’s incredibly temperamental, depending on very specific wind and swell directions and tide state. The one and only other time I had sailed it before was January two years ago with Mikey Clancy and Graham Ezzy and from that one day I knew both what a joy it was to catch a screaming left there but also the pain and heartache of the gusty winds and ripping currents.

Slightly sceptical, I took my time getting there as pounding hail showers, Armageddon squalls followed by windless doldrums did little to settle my nerves. Just as I was resigned to another glorious waste of petrol, my heart rose as I turned down the final pothole ridden road to a view of a world-class left hander peeling across the bay with the sun beating down and not a sinner on the wave, classic Ireland !

As usual eager beaver Timo, was rigged and ready to go. He’s always on it when it comes to sailing. Finn wasn’t too far behind but meticulously checking his gear making sure everything was fit for purpose. I’m useless when it comes to being prepared like him, I just rig as quick as I can and head out regardless, but I’m starting to realise Finn might be actually on to something, like when I keep breaking down out to sea with no back up whilst Finn’s out there with enough spare down haul to tug a cruise ship into shore!

Timo was catching some absolute peaches, long walls with throwy inside sections which he was just doing aerial after aerial on. It was fun to see some of the local top big wave surfers like Paul O’Kane there watching some world class windsurfing, it’s a pretty rare occurrence around these parts and to see it so closely, in person, is pretty impressive. Finn headed out and in true Finn style started picking off the bombs. He tacked so far up wind I thought he’d run aground on the headland but it was all part of his standard kamikaze mission to go as deep as he could on the biggest sets of the day. At one stage all three of us were lined up on a clean set that came rolling in from so far out the back it felt like a lifetime before they finally jacked up. I could see Timo on the first, throwing buckets all the way in, then Finn’s wave was massive and all I could see from the back was the arc of the mast dipping below the lip and then carving up again as the monster wave rolled in. My wave was pretty sweet too. I was out on my favourite sail, my 4.3 Firelight, trying not to get distracted by the boys’ waves in front of me, or the stunning backdrop ahead as I headed down the face of a sizeable wall. There is literally nothing sweeter than having the sickest conditions right at home on your doorstep, the sun shining down and only you and your two mates out there enjoying it. It’s always the best craic sailing with Finn and Timo, not only because they push me to try harder but mostly because they are so unbelievably happy to just be out there, it’s so infectious and why I love windsurfing in Ireland despite my near hypothermic state !  JC

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