RETURNED WITH LOVE
Still hours ’til daylight and the carpark’s chokkas already. Vans and utes, strewn with guns, parked bumper to bumper for the length of the street and around the corner.
Reaching the lineup after paddling the requisite K or so, it’s not yet light enough for seascape and landscape to distinguish themselves from each other, jet skis in the channel resemble dairy cows in a paddock. And when the escarpment before me folds over the valley beneath it, the heaviest wave I’ve seen in a long time – black, backless, and overwhelming me with awe – I struggle to comprehend what I’m watching.
And when a black dot appears beneath its lip,
