Alea iacta est.

The swell took no one by surprise.

Camp life lives and breathes on the rumour of waves and the intentions of the weather. And this storm had telegraphed its firm intentions days ago as it dominated the great mass of ocean represented on the charts.

The docile nature of yesterday's surf had been swept away during the night. As the light crack of the waves on the reef had given way to a deep booming there wasn't a surfer in camp that took their midnight piss without feeling a nervous tension that had been absent the night before.

Morning light showed just how much the swell had increased and proved justification for the decision to drag the boats further up into the cave and away from the grasping reach of the shorebreak. The pushing mid tide , the over powering offshore and the suns glare shooting blindingly into the pinching barrels made the choice to take your time easy.

This day was only getting better.

Another spot would be hitting its straps shortly and the convoy of cars over the hill made no secret of the fact.

Fuck it . Let them have it . I had other plans.

A long breakfast as the wind buffeted the camp . The ebb and flow of the surfers out to the point and back . The high tide causing the tubes to clamp and the wind sending stair cases up the face resulted in a few broken boards and a broken foot. Nothing compared to what would be going down up the coast.

Serious waves that most aren't capable of surfing. Good luck to those that test themselves. The rewards for success can be drawn upon for years in the form of great memories and a bolt of self confidence that'll straighten your back a bit when your faced with the next challenge life throws at you.

As the sun rises the wind decreases . Unfortunately , the tide is now maxing and the surge over the keyhole is more a mini tsunami that pushes waist deep over the jagged limestone. Rather than risk disaster exiting the water , some paddle to the corner to duel with the shorebreak instead. Both can be treacherous.

An hour after high and the line up is virtually empty. Champaign hour makes it look inviting , but with the swell still yet to peak and low tide hours away I know that I've got to pace myself.

Go out for a few. Don't try anything crazy. Save the energy , the board and the body. You'd kick yourself if you wound up spending the afternoon waiting on X Rays at the A and E ward cause you got overexcited and went a close out.

Waves were better than you'd hoped. The tide making them throw a bit better now . But as Bear said - This is just the lemon next to the pie.

Back to camp . Rest . Rehydrate. Recharge.

Cars are starting to file back from the other spot. Tales of daring do , life altering waves and wipeouts on a grand scale. People look frazzled from adrenalin , sun exposure and floggings.

As the sun starts to dip toward the horizon the time arrives. Walk slowly down the track. Not the time to stub a toe or twist an ankle. Thick lines pouring down the reef. Suit up and dry hair paddle out.

The swell looks to be peaking . Catch a couple of spectacular warm up waves . Why can't surfing be like this always ? The crowd is lighter than on the small days , but not by as much as you'd think. Still looks to be only a few wanting the bombs though. A small crew sits tight but relaxed at the top of the point.

Not much hassling here. If you claim a wave then it's yours. Though if you don't go a wave you've made a move on ...well , good luck getting a second chance.

I wait my turn at the top of the point . Some amazing surfers present . No fear for these boys. Pure confidence on display with every action. A few sets pass through and I'm in pole position. A few jokes and a bit of light banter going down but make no mistake , everyone has their eyes fixed firmly on the prize.

I pass up the first set. Then it's a few minutes of lull. Checking and rechecking the line up markers. Staying focused. When my wave comes its bigger than anything I've seen all day. Thicker , moving fast.

Instinct tells me to paddle wide and let the swell bleed a bit of energy before I try and catch it.

Experience tells me to stand my ground. Paddle up towards the wave to where I know a finger of reef will trip the swell and allow an entry point that will be far easier to negotiate . A slight kink in the face as it starts to rise reveals the section that will present my opportunity. I hesitate for a second , overthinking the moment . Second guessing my position relative to the wave when a catch movement in the corner of my eye.

Another surfer has taken this hesitancy as a sign of reluctance and makes a move towards a take off. The competition triggers an urge that dispels all doubt and guess work.

I power up my strokes. Shifting my focus from eyeing up the wave down the line to the immediacy of the drop.

The wave seems to gain even more speed as it heaves vertically . The lip rears above me and the reef is clearly visible below . The bottom falls out of the wave completely . I'm no longer conscious of any decisions as my hands leave the rails and I leap to my feet.