Anzac Day 2015

Blowin's picture
Blowin started the topic in Saturday, 25 Apr 2015 at 4:11pm

1.

Damn you cheese.

Damn you to hell.

Yes, I'm specifically referring to you Camembert, you sly minx.

With your beguiling texture and subtle tastes you continue to cruel my life. For whilst my tongue and mouth love you so, my digestive tract loathes you in equal measure.
A pre bedtime meal of cheese is a sentence to a night of troubled and broken sleep. A night of nightmares of being pursued and persecuted by a faceless mob of unknown assailants with bloody murder on their minds and it's all I can do to fight and flee from their relentless attacks. My arms and legs rendered immobile and lumpen throughout the endless melee.

So it was that I woke in the very early hours of this morning, bathed in a lather of sweat after a moments weakness last night that saw the evil curd consumed during an otherwise very pleasant Margarita binge.

It was not yet 3AM, as the deep bass of the nearest discotheque was still pulsing steadily through the night. I imagined the goings on in that sweaty pleasure house on this Anzac morning and realised that , judging by the stories told of the Diggers creating merry mayhem in Cairo, not only would they have approved but that members of the 3rd Lighthorse would have been smashing the Arak and Redbulls as hard as any modern day party monger

Then , as I lay in the darkness waiting for the dawn, my amorous advances towards the sleeping beauty by my side devastatingly rejected , the grim realisation that here too was the scene of a devastating loss of Australian life during wartime.

Only in this instance the diggers that died were conscripted not just unwillingly, but also unknowingly, in a war that they were not quite aware that they were a part of.

RIP Sari Club good timers .

2.

So it's through sleep deprived eyes that I watch the rising of the sun and remember the fallen. A minutes silence before I slip into the silken water and let the current drag me towards a ledging wave that I've never surfed before.

I'm not alone in the line up. It's a matter of minutes before I see the first Finn silhouetted through the morning haze. Then another. And another. An entire school of Finns. As the first set approaches they begin to thresh the water in an obvious state of excitement. A wall of whitewash rag dolls the lot.
The waves are solid though smaller than I'd expected. The Finns are a fun bunch to surf with, ever eager to explain their personal journey towards surfiedom as rideable waves are hard to come by in Finland apparently. Residencies in Bali, Byron Bay, Gold Coast....all the usual suspects in the recruitment of surfing newbies in the age of global adventure.

3.

Stuck between gears.

Not all surfs feature a zen like detachment from consciousness and an innate connection between board, rider and the ocean. Some days are a struggle. Pushing shit uphill with a sharp stick to force some magic when it's not forthcoming.
That's the session I had. If there was a lip descending, then my groggy head was under the axe. When an intermittent set hit the ledge I was eternally too far out to sea or too close to shore. If a wave sectioned, I was always behind it.

One of those surfs. Sleep deprivation ? That's an excuse I'm grabbing with both hands, thanks.

4.

Take 2.

When in doubt, go bigger.

If there's one thing I've learnt from many shockers - sleep deprivation of course, let's not consider the alternative regarding talent - is that the only way to get back on that horse is to let go.
Reset, relax andForget trying to rip, it's back to basics. Just make some waves.

So it's a relocation to an offshore reef that's getting all the swell. And a bigger board. Just cruise into them and let the wave dictate the ride. Nothing fancy and your Mojo will flow right back.
Just let me say that bigger boards turn me on. I'm no hard charging Hellman , but I sure does love me a nice entry into a big drop with a bottom turn that seems to last forever.
Sheet glass walls, lines of muscular swell marching in, luminescent whitewater on a slate grey ocean under a threatening sky as thunderheads loom and the entire scene is a dream.
Equilibrium and Mojo returns.

5.

Release from this Earthly prison.

There are a lot of parallels between sex and a massage.
Both are an expression of physicality between two people, sometimes it's a forced march of pure rote mechanics with a decidedly unsatisfactory aftertaste. Sometimes it's transcendental and leaves you a bit bewildered for a few seconds post act with a sense of stillness and a dreamy lightheaded ness . Sometimes it's just plain fucking rough.

Today saw the best kind of platonic release. I like Ibu. She knows what she's doing. A mix of years of experience hands on with the human anatomy, a gut load of intuition and the priceless ability to read the body language of the person under the hands. You'd think that a white knuckle grip on the massage bed and writhing around like a caterpillar on hot coals would be an obvious indicator that you're experiencing discomfort but some masseuse either don't care or can't see it.
Not Ibu.
She's not big on the massage as prelude to Pimping your ride as a lot of the town girls are. Which ain't a bad thing, it's just not my bag , baby. So it'll just be the rubdown thanks, no need to grease my ball bag , try to jam your finger in my balloon knot or whisper sweetly in my ear if I'd like her to make my banana cry if it's all the same to you. Thanks anyway.

6.

And relax. It's a holiday ,bitches !!

Comfortable location. FOMO extinguished by exhaustion.
Bintang. Tall. Repeat.
And I'm feeling amazing. Between a couple of surfs, an incredible feed and a mind bending massage it's looking like the diggers fought for a lifestyle worth preserving.

So thank you legends. Each and every Aussie soldier that fought at the behest of the Aussie people. Rightly or wrongfully. Whether a conflict was just or unjust, you all did as you promised and fought in our name.

Hope you all had a good Anzac Day.

Blowin's picture
Blowin's picture
Blowin commented Saturday, 25 Apr 2015 at 4:21pm

National self - haters need not apply.

wellymon's picture
wellymon's picture
wellymon commented Saturday, 25 Apr 2015 at 5:38pm

Loved that piece Blowin, awesome stuff;)

Hey "So thank you legends. Each and every Aussie soldier that fought at the behest of the Aussie people. "

Why is it called ANZAC day champ.......? You forgot some others;)

ahha you and Ibu go back awhile! thats is funny but real I suppose.. No5

Our brains are too small at the moment to comprehend the reality of what's happening in our forests . We're only just waking up so to speak . The big problem is we think we know everything, we are specks of dust on a timeline and we know nothing .

surfstarved's picture
surfstarved's picture
surfstarved commented Saturday, 25 Apr 2015 at 6:12pm

Great read Blowin, you should miss out on sleep more often.

Oh, and I think my son may share your love/hate relationship with 'bert. We, as a family, demolished a wheel of the local oozer with dinner last night, then hours later I was awoken by a blood-curdling shriek of "Mama, Mama!" from the room next door. Instantly awake, I leapt to my feet and rushed into the kids' room to fight off whichever monster was devouring my second-born, only to find him snuggling down into sweet oblivion, his nightmare over and done with.

It took me another half-hour to get back to sleep, damned adrenaline coursing through my veins. Maybe, like you, I should have grabbed the laptop and written it down. Inspiration can hit at the strangest moments...

Don't let the bastards grind you down

Blowin's picture
Blowin's picture
Blowin commented Saturday, 25 Apr 2015 at 6:41pm

wellymon wrote: Loved that piece Blowin, awesome stuff;)

Hey "So thank you legends. Each and every Aussie soldier that fought at the behest of the Aussie people. "

Why is it called ANZAC day champ.......? You forgot some others;)

ahha you and Ibu go back awhile! thats is funny but real I suppose.. No5

Welly you Anzac legend, thanks for reminding me to give our Kiwi cobbers a hoy for their sterling work.
C'mon the Kiwis.

stunet's picture
stunet's picture
stunet commented Sunday, 26 Apr 2015 at 12:00pm

Onya Blowin, great read. I spent ANZAC morning on the beach with three young blokes blissfully oblivious to the gravity of the day, or indeed to the surf rifling down the northern bank. Fuck it was good, and I couldn't do a thing about it. The only consolation was the sandman they built. "It's you Dad!" They squealed, and I duly noted the anatomically correct rocks placed in the nether regions. Right on, boys.

Later on I got lubed up at a mates party in the hills behind Austinmer, then downed a few more at Coledale RSL. Scored a tip off about a bank at a hard-to-access beach so I took it pretty easy compared to some of the rowdy folk under that tin roof. When I left Coledale Rissole was well on the way to wild.

Set the alarm for 4:30 this morning. Drove an hour, then walked an hour through darkness and rain. Sat in the pre-dawn light on the edge of the beach straining to see if it was any good. It wasn't. Not too sure what my mate was talking about when he said the bank was great. Then I remembered he was slurring and a bit wobbly on his feet when we spoke, no doubt carrying on the fine old tradition of Talking Shit Up. The Diggers would've been proud...

Still, I surfed for an hour and didn't see another soul save the wallabies who frightened me on the walk back out.

zenagain's picture
zenagain's picture
zenagain commented Sunday, 26 Apr 2015 at 12:07pm

Great reads from both you chaps.

Watashi wa metabo oyagi desu.

Blowin's picture
Blowin's picture
Blowin commented Sunday, 26 Apr 2015 at 4:44pm

Hey Stu, at the risk of sounding like Sheepdog the Riddler, it sounds like the bank you surfed was epic in a previous ERA.....how subtle was that ?!

If that's where you're referring a mate reckons he got a triple cover up at the North End rocks not long ago.

Coledale rissole - oh the fun to be had at that innocuous little backwater. Last time I was there was for a wake and it was still an awesome time....RIP MA.

Anzac Day is always fun, and usually pumps. Just what the digger ordered .

Sounds like you got amongst it.

Anatomically correct rocks - are you talking about a couple of thumbnail size bits of pumice ?

stunet's picture
stunet's picture
stunet commented Sunday, 26 Apr 2015 at 6:29pm

*Stu taps the side of his nose in reply to Blowin's first question*

*Stops and scratches his head*

*Realises secret signs don't work on the internet*

Fuck it.

Blowin's picture
Blowin's picture
Blowin commented Sunday, 26 Apr 2015 at 6:47pm

Message received .

I'll now eat my IPad to remove all trace of this discussion.

truebluebasher's picture
truebluebasher's picture
truebluebasher commented Thursday, 25 Apr 2019 at 9:43pm

2019 swellnetonians Salute Anzac Day 2015 comments...(We may live to regret)

2019 Burleigh Heads Beach now has several pop up Beach Bars...3 at last count.
Looking towards the surf the Lifeguards are wrapping a victim in Foil.
Spinal injury sees him carted off in a XXXX shuttle...perhaps it was an Ambulance.

Heavy Surf is smashing up the busy holiday crowd in little pieces.
The crowd has now vanished! Maybe it's that techno beat from the beach bar?
So why is everyone on the beach waving at truebluebasher...where's the backdoor?
tbb only then realizes dopey default Megaphone feedback is a sad alarm of sorts.

Anyhow! That's a 2019 pissweak half hearted Shark Siren folks...Wot! That Taser!
2 decent sized sharks cleared half the point & whole beach so tbb cleared off too.
Radiator ordered 4 litres of tap water to make it home before blowing it's top!

Oh! Almost forgot! It's now customary to wish someone a 'Happy Anzac Day'.
tbb trusts you all had an equally 'Happy Anzac Day' & wish all a Happy Anzac Nite.

footnote: All Sport is now held over to innadvertantantly fall on Anzac Day...
There's no longer enough hours in the day for Anzac spirit sporting ceremony.
Anzac Eve will soon be a thing in order to squeeze in a Diggerz ceremony or such...

Aborigine's great tribal wars against Kiwis are re-enacted.(So! Not your idea then?)

factotum's picture
factotum's picture
factotum commented Thursday, 25 Apr 2019 at 10:22pm

And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda

When I was a young man I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the murrays green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen my country said son
It's time to stop rambling 'cause there's work to be
Done
So they gave me a tin hat and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As we sailed away from the quay
And amidst all the tears and the shouts and the
Cheers
We sailed off to Gallipoli

How well I remember that terrible day
When the blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they called suvla bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk he was ready, he primed himself well
He showered us with bullets, he rained us with
Shells
And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell
Nearly blew us right back to Australia

But the band played waltzing Matilda
As we stopped to bury our slain
And we buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again

Now those who were living did their best to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and fire
And for seven long weeks I kept myself alive
While the corpses around me piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over tit
And when I woke up in my hospital bed
And saw what it had done, Christ I wished I was
Dead
Never knew there were worse things than dying

And no more I'll go waltzing Matilda
To the green bushes so far and near
For to hump tent and pegs, a man needs two legs
No more waltzing Matilda for me

So they collected the cripples, the wounded and
Maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The legless, the armless, the blind and insane
Those proud wounded heroes of suvla
And as our ship pulled into circular quay
I looked at the place where me legs used to be
And thank Christ there was nobody waiting for me
To grieve and to mourn and to pity

And the band played Waltzing Matilda
As they carried us down the gangway
But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared
And they turned all their faces away

And now every April I sit on my porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving their dreams of past glory
i see the old men, all twisted and torn
The forgotten heroes of a forgotten war
And the young people ask me, "what are they
Marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question

And the band plays Waltzing Matilda
And the old men still answer to the call
But year after year their numbers get fewer
Some day no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll go a-Waltzing Matilda with me?

Songwriter: Eric Bogle

Blowin's picture
Blowin's picture
Blowin commented Thursday, 25 Apr 2019 at 11:48pm

Facto finally gets it.

I suspect he did years ago too , but the winds of dictated change blew him off course till they ( for some reason) felt the urge to rekindle that flame.

factotum's picture
factotum's picture
factotum commented Friday, 26 Apr 2019 at 9:19am

Idiot.

Simple.