This story is shamelessly and completely stolen from Clyde Waite and his Windsurf Britain blog, why? Because it is absolutely hilarious and we had to share Clyde’s total humiliation.

Respect the shore break people, or it will get you. 

The plan was to get out on the water after the rain and jobs at about 2pm. At 2 pm there was no wind and Southbourne was flat as a pancake. Wierd since it was howling in the morning. More rennovation then. 4.30 pm, there were some really nice waves. It looked sort of windy. There was a bit of shorebreak.

Ok basically I got my ass well and truly irrigated by this shorebreak. The tide was coming in at a rate of knots and I could not get near, let alone over, the main bowly section. There was also way less wind than I thought. I got drilled about ten times at least. The Southbourne shorebreak is like that nightmare girl you left, that still kinda gives you a hard time anyway and would probably miss if it went completely. There was no way I could leave this place defeated by it, especially looking at some of those waves and in the face of several onlookers. I managed to get one lull, pumped like RS:X and managed to get out. It was light, but enough to get a few fun smacks and turns.

The other notable thing is how warm it was, just in shorts it was lovely and warm even at 6pm. Eventually I realised that there wasnt’t enough wind, me and my 5.3 were not really going anywhere. I hadn’t been planing at all so should come in. Pumping down and onto the back of a wave to get in I thought I was safe. Sure enough my world was sucked from my feet and bam, bam and bam again the shorebreak had the last word.

Pinned under my kit, face ground up in the stones and 4 fins in my back, I lost this battle. I was just happy my mast was still intact and the go pro seemed pretty happy despite the beating of a life time.