It’s cold underfoot. Looking back over the marshes a brisk westerly cuts across frozen fields. Everything is white, crispy, even whilst the rest of the country is blustery here in Suffolk we’ve had a brief but hard frost. Further north the swell is heaving. I know this because I have checked the charts and it’s the second biggest chart I have seen in my life for the North Sea. I also know because every east coaster I am friends with has been getting very excited on Facebook lately, and even started posting up lineups this morning. But it wasn’t enough to tempt me north. I surf a river-mouth in Suffolk a lot, it’s total and complete crap, dribbly waist high left-handers sometimes crumble along an average gravel bank. That’s as good as it gets, but oddly I love it, maybe ‘cus I’m getting old, or maybe it’s ‘cus I reckon one day it could actually be good.
This was that day.
As I climbed into my suit all I could hear were waves cracking down a gravel bank, you know that sound you get on a perfect day in France when you’re the other side of the dune? I could barely contain myself, I ran across the gravel bank and stroked out into head high perfection. Yeah I said it, just head high, but barreling. The next three hours I got more barrels than I had ever had in the UK. I got out as the tide filled, knowing that this will probably never, ever happen again in my lifetime. Not that perfect, not at that size, and I dare say there are surfers around the country thinking the same thing about the last two months. It’s been insane, every corner of Britain has fired at some point. It has been an epic winter.
This is reflected in the mag, we have an incredible month in surfing, spots have been breaking that weren’t even spots in a lot of peoples minds. A little north east action from some groms and the legendary Mr B, a pretty special beach in Cornwall and even a slice of Hawaii. The mag though is dominated by groms. When this gear from legendary photographers Alex Williams and Greg Martin landed in my inbox it all had to be run. Some of the future of British surfing all going mad in some classic swell down in the Algarve, all under the watchful eye of Britain’s highest performer himself, Reubyn Ash. It’s unusual for us to run a feature like this, but they all deserve some coverage, and they come from all over, London, The North East, Wales, Devon, hell even Cornwall. So read on and meet the next generation, or some of them at least. These are the kids that will be destroying it at beaches around the coast and hopefully beyond in years to come.
All the usual stuff is in there, Jarvi’s column is particularly funny this month, so enjoy, oh and pick a new summer wettie, it’s going to start to get warm soon, honest and to help you we have our usual guide to the best rubber available.
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