Sometimes being a surfer sucks. It can cause you to do seemingly anti-social things. Like a Xmas tradition my brother and I started for no other reason than our own selfish need for a salty session on the big day.
We'd all arrive back to the family farm in the Waikato – we'd have the whole family together for the first time in ages. My brother and I flying in from Australia. But instead of relaxing and spending time catching up with siblings, nieces and nephews, we acted more like we had ants in our pants. The lazy southerly breeze would occupy our thoughts and we'd imagine the 2m swell wrapping around the points at Raglan.
We'd endure the formaltiies as long as possible ... or for the shortest time we could get away with without getting too much of a laser beam glare from our mum and sisters. Then we'd drive out to Raglan like a couple of overexcited grommets, surf our brains out, laugh, hustle each other and belt out big Merry Christmases to who ever we happened to share the lineup with. Usually a small bunch of surfers with the same idea as us.
Stoked and exhausted we'd head back to the farm as content as a couple of lambs in spring sunshine. The rest of Xmas day could continue with complete engagement from us both. Happy, content, stoked and a couple of magic waves running on repeat through our minds.
As selfish as it first appears, I highly recommend the surf tradition. It beats a food coma hands down and that buzzy contentment is something special to take into your Xmas dinner. And these days, the balance of power is certainly in the hands of the surfers with all the kids surfing, too.
See you at the beach ... Derek
PS We're closing the gallery around midday today (Xmas Eve), but if you're really desperate for that last special gift and have left everything to the last minute (like I usually do), then call us on 021 139 8188.
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