Andrew Harris, Paul Harris, Michael Haris, William Hill, Julian Standley, Carl Hanninen, Clifford Allan
Demons dwell in unusual places; our heads, hearts, underneath heavy, heaving waves, amongst the reef, and on the deck of the Barrenjoey with a Captain nursing his 8 month old son yelling "get out there ya softcocks!" Julian knew his limits and his newly mended broken wrist was the perfect excuse. He lit a cigarette and calmly turned to the Captain and said "piss off!" The Harris Brothers also knew theirs and claimed someone had to document the epic surf and it might as well be them. The rest of the lads went out and had a real dig. Several over the falls later, some big barrels, mountainous take-offs, and big whompings, they were washed out by an ever increasing swell. It was time to run and search for something a bit more mellow.
All the obscure spots were firing. Normally dormant waves showed off their wares and the boys showed their style. The fish were jumping into the Bynda Laut. Grins mixed with scratches. Stories became bolder with each swill of Bintang. The waves, as they have done all season, kept rolling in. For the keen members, it was a wavefest.
The city slickers returned subdued over a glassy sea, glazed looks in their eyes. The hint of adventure simmering down. Their next surf, probably Bondi Beach. The suntans will peel away and that shallow reef pass will remain an obscure dream slipping away from reality.