THRASHED ABOUT: BODYBOARDING IN MAWGAN PORTH...

Thrashed About…

(Bodyboarding at Mawgan Porth)

Bubbles collected and hovered on the tide

In clusters, as if blown from a pipe,

Then, urged on individually by a raging gale, 

Across wet sand, like tadpoles they shifted apace

To burst in pools, leaving entrails like lace;   

The squall beat at my ears, scowling and scraping

But still I leaned into it, lumbering onwards,

Determined to reach the tumultuous surf…

My board dodged wildly, like a manic rudder,

Wrenched at with harsh and spiteful shudder,

Yet I clutched it keenly, the bluster thraping

‘Til the roaring ocean reared before me, gaping

But enticed by the thrill and the danger, confronted freely

The surf and I faced up ‘neath a rainbow faint and steely;

Thus a stealthy, grimacing encroachment I dared

And once immersed, there was no quarter spared

With every wild, tricky and perilous ride…

Disheveled, it thrashed at my board, rucking,

And hurling it onwards, lifting it, bucking

Like a bronco, furious for my ride to spill,

Soaking and clutching at my hair at will;

Then it slung me clear and above me towered, 

 Before its lesser tremors powered

Me on until shallow water was reached

And I lay exhausted upon my board now beached:

Salt’s sour tang lay upon my lips, blue with cold,

And sand lay sprinkled across my board like gold…

Pete Ray

November 2019

A gale off the sea, making walking the 200 metres or so to the outgoing tide difficult, which then ripped at my board as I held on tight…

Several nasty mixes of waves totally threw me asunder in a session of speed and a kind of balancing gymnastics…

The bubbles sweeping across the wet sand were strangely beguiling and the walk back to the main beach was hurried on by the wind, shoving at my rudder of a board…

Loved it.