Posted: Mon Apr 04, 2005 8:59 pm
That was one mean loop. I remember the day well. For some reason a date sticks in my mind -- Dec 1, 1990. I had just moved here in Sept of the same year. It was damn cold that morning. A few of us gathered at Kook and contemplated the blowing spray and massive swell. Damn cold, like about 1 degree. Kurt decided to go for it. It was the very first run out that he went for it. Man, did he give-er. I'm pretty sure I'll never witness such a loop again. Bold, confident, brazen, irreverent, BIG. Sure would be nice to see the video. I also remember Grant Watson riding the biggest swell that I've ever seen at Kook. The swell stretched from the outer reef to about 20 feet from shore, and Grant was putting down a FAT laydown right in the middle.
. It wasn't always a pleasant experience, to see how quickly he picked up new tricks, but in his quest for furthering his skills, he peaked early and left the sport for some time. I am glad to see he is back, but sadly I have left and am now 3000 miles away, back in South West England. Maybe next time we sail I can reciprocate some of his enthusiasm, and lay down some of my new moves. Until then , it will have to suffice my posting of pictures. Enjoy. 
I thought, driving home to be enveloped by a warm blanky and hot chocolate on this rainy, miserable late November day, trying to shake that damn flu I've had all week. I note a flag flying...hey that's a Westerly...more than the 10kn forecast, dood...the damn cell, takes forever to load, damn, damn, 1 block to Kook turnoff, ok there it is....Race 33...33 
I'm down and out there despite flu & busted/splinted finger all taped up (gee that didn't last long tho, crap, stuff the splint down my suit, figure it out later), soon I regret rigging the 4.8 (couldn't hold it with three fingers) & not carrying smaller board (well, this s#%t wasn't forecast now, was it?); apart from few nice clew first down the lines, talk about disabled sailor. WindDoc and Mark are ripping the place up, 3 kiters getting 4th-story airs; I'm all over the place, embarassing really so finally I decide to hero-duckgybe down a wicked face (not sure WTF I was thinking in near 40kn gusts, obviously not much apart from dreaming MY friggen name is Angulo, not my board's) only to be slammed into boom/mast/sail; after taking stock only a swollen wrist & bruised ribs, still sorta conscious, that hockey helmet is the cat's ass....AC later says: "hey, nice back loop, kus"....I figure he's mocking me) but: I'm a mess, what a loser, an old fart trying to do a young man's sport 
I was gonna eat these waves, rip them to pieces, maybe, just maybe try another forward without concern for consequences and now here I am drifting to shore with a broken outhaul I can't seem to fix w/ one hand, another slight washing machine session in the shorebreak later (I suffered a larger one earlier when a wave snagged my sail back in a moment of inattention when I tried to take a breather) & I'm licking my chops on the beach. Telling tales of woe to whoever will listen (only the sympathetic Camie 
), using one of the shredded pieces of outhaul to afix the madly flapping sail. Yes, there are tons of excuses to be had: wrong board, too long a mast for the 4.2 (absolutely huge pocket), new wider booties not fitting in straps, buggered middle (driving) finger, that lingering herniated disc, the flu & meds 
(did I say poor bugger? yes I did); renewed energy, I set off to conquer once again, stepping off same said rock into the surf, I do a quick and dirty launch into the white. No sooner do I try to "lock in" I drag fin and board over the second rock which I forgot about 
Gusty as hell and I love it 
) see ya out there JJJim BTW it was balmy yesterday but this Monday's SE may be accompanied with flurries 
