When we arrived to set upon set of wind fanned perfect left handers we were so amped up we could barely rig. The excitement leads to a litany of errors like wetsuit on the wrong foot and harness upside down, all while JC tells a tale of how Polakow would be out there already. I remind JC that Polakow’s idea of cold is how chilled his Red Bull is, Polakow would have already tried to drown him twice before breakfast on his jet ski and that oh yeah, Timo is already out there ! JC drops his camera bag running or rather tripping to the rocks to catch Timo’s first wave, his tripod hits him perfectly between his legs as his brand new trainers land knee deep in freshly laid mud that smells suspiciously not very muddy. I lend him my wellies even though I feel Polakow wouldn’t while my half rigged sail flys like an uncontrolled kite towards the closest barbed wire Murphy’s law can find.