Monday, 22 August 2016

MAWGAN PORTH: STORM SURFING...


Storm Surfing

Sparse plods of rain fell onto sand,
White cloud turned to airforce-blue.
Treading the drying beach flats, 
Heading for surf
As a heavy deluge blew from the land.

Beads pelted backs, now quite hunched,
As ankles chilled in the shallows;
Striding deeper into jumpy waves 
Seemingly on reins,
As a storm of thunder now crunched.

Lightning sparked on deep sea,
Mist shrouding all but nearby,
Veiling dunes and valley beyond. 
Exhilarating breath and sea froth broke,
As a vehicle to steer me free.

Shattering echoes of thunder’s beat
Curled round the bay,
Urging hail’s harassment onward, 
Flicking jagged edges of light,
As I surfed and rode a thrilling retreat…

Pete Ray


27th July 2000: & the nearby lifeguards merely watched as my father and two daughters became drenched, huddled near Mawgan Porth's dunes. 
My son Jamie and I had walked down to the sea and surfed in the storm, quite unbelievably. 
We guessed that the others had returned to the caravan. 
They hadn’t. 
An elderly lady, a resident on her wooden board, seen each year at Mawgan Porth, wearing her 1950s bathing costume, was also surfing… 

Jamie and I finally returned to the caravan site and bathed in the outdoor swimming pool, which was steaming with heat… Quite amazing.


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