Secret Spots - Don’t tell anyone I told you Bru!

A couple of weeks back I heard some whispers flicker around a wintery braai about a secret spot. I thought here we go again, an unmapped gem that’s always head high, requires no rubber and is dusted by genteel land breezes. Yet another salty Elysium I will never surf. I gave up on ‘The Search’ when I realised toddlers are somewhat allergic to Sex Wax, damp car seats and copious amounts of Weskus grit.

Nonetheless, my curiosity got the better of me so I edged cautiously towards the hushed conversation, but they got wind of my ploy. They promptly closed ranks with a few well placed shuffles, and added a full-stop to my intentions with a ‘look’ that required no further explanation. I replied with an inane smile, back-peddled a couple of paces and waited for the Black Labels to kick in.

Here’s my take on ‘Secret Spots’. Let’s rather refer to them as not-so-secret spots. Someone will undoubtedly spill the beans, scribble a map on an ATM deposit slip, or bumble forth a set of inebriated directions. Better still, there are some tech-savvy surfers out there and secret pacts dissolve rapidly in the face of techno-braggadocio. These infernal pixel pirates will gladly SMS you a hi-res photo and a set of lucid directions from their iPhone, complete with a YouTube link for stoke value.

Before you can whisper “Don’t tell anyone else bru!” half of Cape Town has descended on your “Treasure Island” with jet skis, SUPs, kite boards and busloads of other annoying peripherals in tow. Thanks to Google Earth, Facebook and GPS systems, a whole generation of bitmapped Columbus’ and Magellans are discovering New Worlds with every mouse click. These surfing digeratti rarely bother with maps or good old dead reckoning. Nowadays it’s just a matter of plugging in the TomTom, fuelling up the Hummer and heading into the sunset with your posse, as Lil’ Wayne provides the soundtrack to your odyssey.

Perhaps it’s not all bad, but the romanticised notion of a secret spot has long gone been relegated to the scrapheap of surfing history, together with detachable wetsuit arms and webbed paddling gloves. A surfing population explosion of nuclear proportions and access to sophisticated technology has shortened the shelf life of the average secret spot dramatically.

So what, there are probably countless secret spots that are beyond the reach of trust funds, Land Cruisers and Twitter. The liquid nirvana that epitomises a secret spot is not the wave itself, but more often a confluence of the right conditions, the adventure of ‘getting there’, and the joy of a shared experience (I might add with friends, and NOT a herd of SUPs). The allure of discovering a secret spot will always beckon future generations of surfers, despite the inevitable 40 knot South Easters and dribbles of swell that underpin most missions. The very mention of the word ‘secret spot’ is enough to conjure up seductive visions of a little corner of surfing Shangri-la that you can call your own for a few hours.

Now back to that wintery braai – yes, the black Labels had weaved their alcoholic magic, the conversation was somewhat more animated and I was welcomed with open arms into the ‘circle of trust’. I promised I wouldn’t breathe a word, but hey, I’m only human and what’s the big deal with telling the one or two people who read this column.

Head south, towards False Bay when a deep growler of a south or even south west swell bloats the bay with corduroy to the horizon bru. A 10 to 15 knot North Wester will caress those long frequency swells into unpainted liquid canvases, but take heed, there are potential hazards. Icy offshores and long paddle outs are de rigueur, and I was told the resident Great Whites have discerning tastes; they prefer in excess of 3 millimetres of neoprene. You’ll also need length to surf this spot bru, 7’6” or longer is advisable. Your 6’4” toothpick will not suffice. Simply put, you don’t take a knife to this sort of bun fight.

As for directions, they are so passé in this digital age so here’s a link to the webcam - http://tinyurl.com/qn8td5, but don’t tell anyone I told you.