The break itself is a half hour hike in; you can’t see it but I can hear it. I’ve never surfed here before but indicators on nearby beaches are showing chunky double overhead sets, it looks about the right size to roll the dice and take a look. There is no beach at this break, have you ever seen the adverts for tourism in Northern Ireland with a crop of hexagonal stones? that’s the Giant’s Causeway and that’s where the break is – I’ve no real idea how I’m going to launch at it – the only times it has been surfed before was by surfers arriving at sea on jet skis as access from the shore is such an issue when the break is big enough to surf. I know there’s going to be a good chance of some dings so I pull out my trusty Starboard 9’8’’, hoping it will be the right size for the surf and that it will forgive me for any prangs.
We sprint down the track to the break as a poor excuse for a proper warm up. What had started as a welcome sound that there were definitely waves big enough to surf was now building to a worryingly ‘I think I might have too small a board’ roar. We round the corner and get our first glimpse of the untouched natural arena of the bay and cliffs in which the Causeway majestically sits, and it’s pumping!
A rapid fire set glints off the point, it’s hard to tell size as we are still at distance but I’m guessing around 15-20’ faces. Coming down here even on a flat day can take your breath away such is the untouched beauty of the land but add the steely quiet of early morning to the visuals of a crashing Atlantic and the scene is inspiringly dramatic. I don’t have time to write any poetry so grab the first lull in the sets to jump in off the nearest safe looking rock and hope I don’t become a bit of SUP salami as I paddle out.
