There were 3 camps this morning. Those who continuing swimming, baywatchers who looped and lapped and tussled with a bumpy, weedy swim. Numbers were down on a day of the week where numbers are normally up.
The second camp was the long awaited Summer return of the FFF. I think its like Freshie fast 5s, or Friday Fast 5s. Iterations. Freshie because the ringleaders are the leaders of the Freshwater Surf Life Saving Club, legends all. I had purchased my FFF togs and was preparing to join, except for the scene at my arrival.
The 3rd camp, possibly the coolest place to hang today was the Surf Safari gang. Out back, chunky waves, wrapped in seaweed. Entree before FFF turned into an hour of power. Oops. My mate Tony made it down for FFF and our friend Special K, a mystical, bachata dancing, swimming coach superstar was committed also. I never made it to the shore. The waves were epic, ramps of froth and carnage. If we were vampires, we were feasting on blood (hope the Establishment dont remove my blog license for that image). Baywatch was squealing, exhausted from the fun. Snoopy had to take the dog to the vet. Fonz and Wave Queen and Bretts brave crew ripped and hollered. You know it getting good when Sean and Riddo get out of bed. Like Claudia Schiffer for $10,000 a day, these Surf life saving Ironmen have wave taste.
Thanks for the coffee and swim and waves and FFF. Remember dont let your true love run cold!
Rusty the Fish and Baby Spice
