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Sleep wasn’t coming easy

The radio didn’t help at all

Reports of a giant swell

Building from the gates of hell

Kept the adrenalin flowin’

And I couldn’t wait to go

Down to Currumbin Rock and see

The waves that were haunting me

————————————

Mornings light was yet to shine

The wet suit drying on the line

Boards were lashed to the Holden’s rack

And nothin’ was going to hold me back

————————————

The car park full at quart to five

Everything was cumin’ alive

The line up started on the rock

Bravest souls first to drop

Into the soup and paddle out

Under brine stacked like a house

By the time I took the dive

Legends were hangin’ five

———————————–

The barrelin’ section in front of the rock

Was an esky lid play pen not for the lot

Diving in there was death for sure

Paddling around the back even more

————————————

Pick up on the wrong one and expect to die

I’m telling you this and I do not lie

T’was getting bigger with the tide

Pick the set and you’re in for a ride

Back from surfers on the bus

Amidst the chunder and the fuss

Most of us were paddling, going nowhere fast

The BIG ones wasted, too far out

————————————

All of a sudden and right on cue

The Mayor of Currumbin came into view

On the tip of the rock and about to pounce

And paddled straight out, regardless of paunch

Pulled on to the Wave of the day

Freefell ten feet into the fray

Stagger a bit and grabbed the rail

In a bottom turn not for the frail

————————————-

He drove up the face with awesome force

Trimmed and stood there proud as a horse

As the barrel engulfed him we all held our breath

Cause this old guy was dicein’ with death

—————————————

He looked a little wobbly

As he spat out of the hole

But it didn’t matter

Style was not the goal

Gathered speed with turns of gold

Hit the lip right on the fold

Floated sideways into place

And into Lacy’s with heaps of pace

—————————————

Down the line he did go

Passed the young guns and those that know

Men like that don’t come along all time

And poems about them usually don’t rhyme

—————————————–

So when I tell my stories now

I don’t forget the sacred cow

Of tales and memories fading fast

Or Ishmael, when tied to the mast

Was something most will never greet

Or someone they will never meet

And defiantly all but none will ever be

As brave and heroic as the old man of the sea

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