The Atlantic has been blowing up for months, one massive swell after another. I’ve surfed loads, work has been super busy too.
We did two strike missions to Ireland in November and December, it was sick (check the pictures).
One afternoon we scored a spot that is so secret I’ve always wondered if it actually existed. This is how it went down …
The Rivermouth – “I don’t know why I love her like I do, all the changes you put me through” – the opening lyrics of the Talking Heads song, “Take me to the River.” Released over 30 years ago, this is the song stuck in my head as I paddle towards the peak at the Rivermouth.
It feels like I’ve waited 30 years to surf this mythical right hander located “somewhere” on the west coast of Ireland.
It’s a beautiful, cold, Irish day. The sky is clear, a light Siberian Easterly grooms the solid 6ft peaks that are unloading on the slab out the back before rolling across the rivermouth and barreling perfectly on the inside sand bar.
I look out to sea, the horizon turns dark blue. My mates Elvis and Ed are already out there, they start paddling.
The first wave hits the slab, Elvis turns and strokes effortlessly into it on his 7ft Fluro pink single fin. As he bottom turns the lip pitches and for a split second he disappears behind a dark green wall of water and then reappears with a beaming smile on his face. He then leans into a full speed cut back, whoops and flys past me.
Ed’s next but she’s too deep, she leaves the wave, it breaks top to bottom and peels perfectly.
The one behind is even bigger – the rip has now pulled her even deeper. She is positioned on the far side of the slab with rock boils and kelp surrounding her and nowhere to go. Ed is a true water woman, in the water all day everyday either surfing or teaching people to surf. Calmly she bails her board and disappears under the water as the wave rears in front of her. Ten seconds later she appears, the wave behind is already on top of her, she takes a quick breath and disappears again.
The set has passed, I’m nearly out the back. Ed is back on her board paddling towards the take off spot.
It’s magical, we sit there sharing the crack. In front of us an empty light blue oceanic canvas and behind us snow capped mountains !!
A set appears, we look at each other and paddle towards it.
It’s solid, the first wave has a green face fading to dark blue on the peak. Ed puts her head down and paddles flat out towards the dark blue. It feathers, she turns and takes the drop. As she hits the bottom she puts her hand in the water, looks up and drives back up the face, an instant later she meets the lip and snaps the board off the top, for a split second I can see her fins, radical !!
The set passes, I’m on my own.
Far out to sea I can see a squall heading my way, it looks menacing and I wonder if I’ll be able to catch a wave before it arrives. As it gets nearer I feel the temperature drop and the Easterly strengthen with a bit of Northerly in it.
A set appears, I get the feeling this could be my best chance to catch a rivermouth “bomb” before the conditions change drastically. The set gets nearer and the squall gets nearer, I’m at the mercy of Mother Nature. The first wave is the one, a perfectly formed wall of “aquatic wonder.”
I paddle flat out towards the peak, it’s already starting to break. I turn and jump to my feet. Instantly my twinny takes off at full velocity. Angling the drop I accelerate through the first section. Looking up, the next section is already dredging so I take the high line and speed across the river before leaning back into a full cutback. My legs are starting to tire but I know the best is still yet to come. The wave backs off slightly and then instantly goes vertical as it hits the inside sand bar. The lip pitches, I put my hand into the face, hold my line and crouch slightly, I’m already in the barrel. Time slows, this happens every time you get pitted, you are completely in the moment, engulfed by mother ocean. Seconds later I’m out, back on the face, racing towards the channel.
Jumping off my board I lie in the shore break savouring the moment. The wind is getting stronger.
Walking back up the beach I look back at the rivermouth, another set is unloading on the slab, it’s now fully onshore and the waves are unsurfable. I timed my last wave perfectly.
By the time I get back to the van the wind is howling and the rain is pouring. Ed has gone, Elvis is getting in his car, he looks over and shouts, “let’s get a coffee…”
25 minutes later and the squall has passed. We’re sat in our favourite spot, sipping cappuccino and eating chocolate cake outside Seven Wanders – the coolest coffee shop in Mayo. Another epic day on the Emerald Isle!
