Sea Wolves at Dawn
“Arooooo!” - That’s my nephew, Angus. He’s all of 8 years old.
“AAAROOOOOOOOO!” - That’s my big brother, Jimmy.
“ArrrrRRRROOOOOOOO! - That’s me.
We are stoked.
Perched upon our boards, out the back of the surf break. Practicing our wolf howls on a perfect, slightly off-shore, Easter Sunday morning swell.
‘Angy’s mop of surf-bleached blonde curls must be clearly visible from the shore’ I think, as he tilts his head back and let’s go another unrestrained outcry.
His best one yet.
‘I wonder what that family must be thinking?’ - ambling along the shoreline on their Easter Sunday stroll. Notified by a Sea Wolf Pack
‘A shark warning?’
‘Is someone in pain?’
‘Too many Easter eggs?!’
Nope, just stoked.
Stoked to be testing our limits in the greatest playground on earth.
Stoked about the paddle, push and pitch onto the salty quicksilver. 5 exhilarating seconds that feel more like minutes.
Stoked to be together. Witnessing a passing of the torch. Enjoying this moment.
Sea Wolves at Dawn, howling above the salt-mist.
Doing EPIC Stuff
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