With just the two of us we cut back on the number of dawn patrols. I guess it was hard on Phil doing all the driving. Sometimes he’d ask another mate to come along, but none of them stuck, they just weren’t as into it as much as we were. Phil always said there was nothing that would stop him doing this. No girlfriend, or job, or party would stand in his way. I felt at the time he was trying to convince himself more then me. I told him to hang on a year, or so, then I could help out with the driving. Phil would laugh and tell me there was no way he would ever let me drive his car and I’d punch him in the arm as hard as I could.
Our last dawn patrol was a fizzer. All the way down Phil was talking about the weather and how the wind was perfect, as long as there’s some swell, which, with a cold front heading into the Bight, there had to be. Dead flat was the verdict when we arrived. Didn’t need the full moon to tell us it was quiet as a chapel down on the rocks at Boobs. Not even big enough for ants Phil said shaking his head. We made it home in time for breakfast.
Phil found a girlfriend soon after. Her name was Alice and she was pretty and really nice. He would pick me up for the occasional surf with Alice, usually mid-morning. I’d sit in the back seat and watch the trees rush by, while Phil and Alice talked over things. I began to make up excuses not to go along because I didn’t feel right in the back seat that way. I missed pulling over so Jacko could throw up, with Phil telling him to hurry up. I missed playing Peter Frampton too loud and talking rubbish just to keep one of them awake. I came to realise, much later, that’s what it was all about for me. It wasn’t the surfing so much as I just liked being there with Jacko and Phil. Catching the occasional wave. Sitting out on the shoulder. Waiting for the next set.
