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Amy Carter Amy Carter

Ironically a large section of the Marazion car park is currently being used to unload huge lumps of stone on route to sure up the damaged sea defences at Long Rock that prior to this winter had adequately protected the railway line heading to Penzance.

When the day dawned one piece of the equation was in place straight off with decent waves to be seen on the web cam wrapping right into St Mounts bay. The wind however was little more than a gentle grooming breeze, holding up the well spaced rolling lines of swell. Ideal for surfing but no where near enough to sail.

The skies were clear and it looked like it might not happen yet again, the wait had begun.

Lunchtime brought with it a little promise as the wind started to fill in at home and it was time to head down to the beach. The forecast wind certainly had arrived as the van was getting buffeted as I sped westward and then “Boom” as I passed Praa Sands I caught sight of the sea and my heart began to race. Lines of solid, simmering green, mast high, peeling right handers were marching towards the beach whilst trailing fifty metre plumes of spray like wedding veils before smashing violently into the sand and rocky headland. You could actually hear the energy each wave had carried for a thousand miles escaping as they took turn to unload and disintegrate onto the Cornish shore line.

It was only now that I allowed a little excitement to creep over me and I had a wry smile firmly planted on my face as I arrived at the beach.

The conditions were epic: Force 5-6 cross offshore NW winds and a building well spaced head to logo high swell thumping into the beach.

After watching a few of the regular guys hooking into a few gems I rigged my 4.7m Goya Banzai and 84ltr Quatro Cube Quad and headed out.

It was as good as it looked and near to perfect for a beach break. Although cross off shore there were still decent ramps to throw in the obligatory back loops and ponches before pinching upwind to the Long Rock reef. Here you could tack and set yourself up deep on a set with an angle to backdoor the first peak on the reeling righthand bombs that would run all the way back past the car park. The waves were holding up at solid logo high on the sets and presenting multiple aerial sections if you had the nerve to go very late and hit the lip. I was continuously getting six to eight proper bottom turns and smacks on each set wave with room to spare.

Even the sun was playing ball and stayed out long enough between each cloud to take the edge off the sub 10 degree air temps.

The level of sailing was rocking with aerials and big turns going down everywhere. Wave after wave was getting carved to bits to and it was hard to believe that this was happening at Marazion!

Four hours later most of the sailors had been satisfied as the spring high tide and resultant barrelling shore dump cleared the water of any late comers. As if to draw the curtain on the show a monstrous hail storm arrived just on cue to round off a memorable day of Marazion perfection.

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