Southern Monkey's Devon Adventure

A fine road-trip of surf, monkies, turtles, beer and barmaids.

After a rubbish start to the mornings work with loads of rain and having to work with the boss from hell, I did the only thing that any self respecting surfer could do and blew it off for a half days holiday to head out for an afternoon's surfing: Destination North Shore. After a quick turnaround I was off and accompanied by my fellow workmate, the Chunky Monkey (Graig). The journey over was not the nice chilled drive it usually is with me being stuck next to the one man who endevoured to make the journey through the rain to our chosen beach break as smelly as possible by farting every five minutes. Then only to have to reduce speed further by becoming stuck behind the biggest tractor and trailer I have ever seen in my life being driven by a Bill Oddie lookalike at 30mph and refusing to let anyone past. But tractor past and on course again for a great afternoon session spirits started to rise, especially with Bob Marley blasting out the stereo. The rain was also stopping for the first time all day and the talent getting better and better the closer we got, so things were on the up. The plan was to hit Croyde, as a quick strategical check on A1 surf had revealed clean four foot surf, but as we drew closer to Saunton the water was a-calling and the car took on a mind of its own and steered into the beaches carpark. A quick chat with the lovely lady in the carpark hut wangled us free parking and we stopped to see lovely clean lines rolling in from as far as the eye could see, onnly for it to start raining once more Ð this time with a vengance. But hey, we were here now and nothing was going to get between us and that perfect wave. So on with a very wet wetsuit, much to the laughter of my companion who I had been winding up about not making it in on sunday, we got suited and booted. Little did I know I would have the last laugh as he had forgotten his gloves. Ready and set to go we headed down to the beach, and the Gods of surf must have been smiling on us as the rain cleared and the sun came out to play with the surf building to a nice 4ft (mammoth in east coast terms (but a lot warmer - Pimp).

After a quick glance at the break we headed in, only for the Chunky Monkey to prove he is the only man who can make an art form of falling off a board without ever actually getting up. Leaving this poor excuse for a surfer I headed out back for some classic waves, only to receive a battering by mother nature. I think it was karma for taking the mick out of the Chunky Monkey. I finally got out-back to ride some classic lines, the last of which I rode in all the way to check that the Chunky Monkey (CM) hadn't drowned. A quick swap of boards and some kind exchanges of words over each others surfing abilites and we were off again. This time riding the CM's 8ft 2" minimal thruster board which he admits was "a bit to much of a board for him", but at a 100 notes, what a bargin! Well, all I can say is what a board Ð it moves on a six pence and chases waves like no other, but is a git to paddle.

After sensing that my fellow surfer was almost standing (ie: trying to drag his lard arse up the board only to get to his knees), I headed in to give him a pat on the back and offer some kind words of encouragment only to find him getting out as the trapped turtle was trying to escape from the freezing confines of his summer suit. So he headed off into the sand dunes to start a conservation project with the release of his first turtle, only to find there was no paper to write his notes up on. I headed out once more on my old friend, my 9ft 1" log to ride some more classic lines that only Saunton can provide, coming out only when it started to get dark to find that my comeupance had hit once again in the form of no bloody towel. This was much to the amusement of CM, who kindly lent me his only to try and reclaim it mid-change in front of a car full of kids with cameras. GIT.

We ended the day the only way one can in north Devon with a trip to the famous Red Barn for a few pints and a slap-up meal. Nice. Just like the very fine barmaid. The trip home was uneventful except for the diversion that took us an hour out of our way down singletrack roads with grass in the middle. But hey who cares, what a classic chilled out day!!!!!!!!!

Southern Ape

P.S. Chunkey Monkey heard that what Southern Ape forgot to say was his CRASH AND BURN attempt of chatting this lovely surf goddess up with the line "that's a nice board, I have one like it, but mine has only one stringer and yours has three". DENIED!

Top