Diary of a Desperate Windsurfer, Age 29 and a half

We continue to follow the outlandish, hilarious and some times controversial exploits of our hero Fraser Steele, as he battles with summer crowds, rock groynes, expensive bottles of wine, parking metres and a board that looks like it might purr if you stroke it…

July: It’s July, it’s busy and it’s not actually that warm. I spent a great deal of time anticipating the arrival of the newest, most coolest windsurfing mag known to mankind, and was hugely impressed! Yes, I am talking about this one! Not sure how many people will eventually find this section, but you never know. It gives me a little distraction from studying every single muscle known to man and woman and then working out how to manipulate them (muscles not people!).

Wednesday 7th July: easterly, bugger!

Bottles of red wines consumed: 1 bottle of Chateau Neuf de Pape.
Attempts to go windsurfing: not even worth talking about.

Whenever the weatherman says the word easterly I always cringe knowing that what he really meant to say was north-easterly which provides the worst condition’s known to man in my part of the world. Not only was it throwing down with rain, but the wind was ridiculously gusty. Poole Harbour Boardsailing's interweb showed a range of 0-31 knots on the anemometer; plus, the thought of changing at the side of the road after a frustrating session lead to me doing my homework instead. On the plus side the breakers yard offered me £5 for my old surf wagon which equates to a 1000% loss, hmm, not such a bargain.

Saturday 10th July: Return to Boscombe.

Size of hangover: monumental
Type spent mincing: hours
Carve gybes: several, but only on Starboard tack
Fun in the small waves: lots

You must understand that I’ve been a student for more years than God and I found out on Friday that I’d passed my exams and was now in my final year of study (I have said that before). It was also my mate’s birthday, so there was muchos partying and my hangover the next morning was also fairly muchos. It took a while to drag myself down to Boscombe beach. I’ve not been there since being hauled over a groyne: no pain but the embarrassment factor was high. The conditions were fantastic, blue sky, cross onshore force 4 with a few small bumps to make it interesting. It took me quite a while to rig my 6.2 Naish Boxer and stick it onto my Tabou 3 Style much to the amusement of fellow plankers. I had a splendid time attempting a few jumps and turning round on the flatter water further out to sea. It was really easy sailing but heaps more fun than Poole harbour. I can really recommend Boscombe in such conditions as something a bit more challenging than the usual Poole flat water blasting. The car parks, on either side of Boscombe pier, are close to the beaches but are kinda pricey and the beach makes a great place to rig. The regulars down there are friendly and the bouncy castle flyers seemed in control and stayed well clear.

Frazer (with a touch of Thunderbird about him) and his chums down at Poole Harbour

“The regulars down there are friendly and the bouncy castle flyers seemed in control and stayed well clear.”

“£1.50 an hour?!! Perhaps if they provided some sort of de-rigging service or free Pimms I might feel less ripped off”

Saturday 17th July

Wanted for extortion: Poole Borough Council

OK, I have Scottish parentage and I’m a student so it’s possible that I could be accused of being a little tight fisted, but charging £1.50 an hour to park on the side of the road by Poole harbour seems pretty steep to me. Perhaps if they provided some sort of de-rigging service or free Pimms I might feel less ripped off. Infact I’d feel less abused if I were in stocks and being paddled by Miss Whiplash. Anyway, whinge over, what a fantastic weekend. My mates came down from London and had a great time blasting around in ideal conditions. Plenty of wind for the beginners and just enough for my whippet sized mate to plane on his Xantos 310 and 7.5m Neil Pryde V8 Street racer. What a board and rig combination, I now have some idea of what flying Concorde must feel like. The nose on this thing is huge and massively pointy; it could quite easily skewer small children! Apart from the serious lack of non-stick it was fast and easy to sail and the whole lot cost less than a crap weekend out in Bognor. It goes to show that old kit put together in the right combination can still be as much fun as the new stuff, and a lot cheaper.

Saturday 24th July: Queer eye for the straight

Weather: fantastic
Wind: enough
Hours spent windsurfing: 0

My gay chum was deeply unimpressed with my new impulse purchase of a pair of sexy Reef Porn shorts. Apparently they make me look like a thirty year old trying to be twenty, which was fairly astute of him as that is the case. However for the moment I’m feeling pretty cool, but time may go against me on that one.

The only reason I bought them was frustration at having to work the whole weekend. Like so many of us out there I occasionally have to work the weekend, not a problem when the weathers pants, but seriously frustrating when it’s good. I made the situation worse however when I didn’t get my arse in gear and go out at the end of the day when there was still plenty of guts left in the wind.

Monday 2nd August: A question of style

Hours spent getting to planking destination: 4 million hours
Gratuitous use of the bird: several occasions
Tourists run down: none, but they were lucky

Living in a seaside resort sounds fantastic but it has the downside of being invaded by hordes of useless, overweight townies every July and August. I’m normally a fairly tolerant chap but when I can’t even park close to where I want to windsurf then I get a bit upset. It wouldn’t bother me so much if they used the beach for its correct purpose of rigging for windsurfing. But instead they excavate Somme style battle field fortifications for you to fall in on the way back to your car.

“Trading standards need to become involved and the name ‘Style’ removed from the side of this board”.

My new found windsurfing chum Ms.Clarke kindly lent me her F2 Guerrilla Style, lets be honest, it’s hideous. Trading standards need to become involved and the name ‘style’ removed from the title. As Ms. Clarke rightly pointed out, finding sails to match is a nightmare and it’ll be as fashionable as pink fluffy boots in a month’s time. Unfortunately the wind wasn’t strong enough to give it a thorough test but she says that it’s pretty good in a breeze.

Thoughts on July:

It’s been a pretty windy month and some of my less hard working chum’s have been letting me know about it. (As if they think they can learn to carve gybe on BOTH tacks before me). I’m fairly suspicious about what August might bring, it’s my Hol’s but since part of them have to be spent in Cowes week, I may be forced to return to my jolly old sailing roots and then cheer our chappies on in the Olympics. Good luck to them all, let’s hope we get a tremendous amount of Gold medal! And maybe I will get to sail Tony Tiger’s new windsurfing kit. I’ll let you know…