Portion Control
We arrived on a pretty dull overcast day in Fuerteventura, followed by torrential rain but at least bad weather meant we'd score some good waves.
After a quick unload at the 'Carleta Del Mar' apartments, we scooted down to Harbour wall to surf 'El Muelle' or 'Harbour Lefts' as it's commonly known.
Driving down, we spied a slice of northern track with 'Shooting Gallery' looking maxed out and the normally flat channel alongside, throwing up 6ft+ barrels.
Pulling up, we were greeted by 4-5ft clean, waves at 'Harbour Wall' and only a couple of surfers in. The Plough didn't have boots and I thought I'd forgotten mine so we braved the urchins and went in barefoot.
I later remembered that I'd stashed my reef boots in my board bag...
The reefs are uncomfortable to walk on so if you're going, take boots.
As usual 'El Muelle' was dishing out punishment but we all made it out in one piece and caught a few lefts.
It was nice to get warmed up in smallish surf, although it's not the easiest wave to surf for regular footers with a dredging backhand takeoff.
Dave had some nice waves and then got completely run over by a longboarder. Luckily for Dave, he can go dive deep!
Undergunned, I caught one that was so fast, I ended up getting to the bottom of it on one leg, planed out straight, desperately clinging on until the lip put me out of my misery ;)
The Plough and Carlos disappeared after the first decent set rolled through and were spotted nattering on the shoreline like a couple of Spanish fish wives for the next twenty minutes!
After a few carefully chosen insults, I shamed them into coming back in and Carlos managed to catch his first wave inside! We called it a day after an hour or so as the waves dropped off and the crowds grew.
That night we met up with Dave's mate - 'Wookie', a behemoth of a man with long hair and hands like bananas. He spoke of giant waves over at 'Majanicho' inside a sheltered bay...
From our apartment we could watch 'Lobos' reeling off all the way down the island, perfect almond shaped tubes but without the ferry, we were doomed.
I told the guys about my previous encounters of 6ft heaven - I'd even had dreams about the place, so when the next day dawned, we were on it.
The ferry was running later than normal due to the winter season but at 12pm we boarded and 30 mins later, we were squelching our way through soaking wet, red, volcanic mud towards the break. The walk was a killer!
I'd spoken to a local surfer the previous evening who told me it had been a solid 8ft+ the day we arrived and very crowded with around 50 surfers on it.
As we wandered out to the point, we spied some of the previous days carnage with at least 3 snapped boards, littering the waters edge.
It had definitely dropped off but was still a nice 3-4ft right out on the point. With the right wave, you could still snag a long walling right, barrelling all the way inside, over the shallow reef.
We virtually had it to ourselves apart from two older guys who were moored up in the channel, staying on a yacht.
The six of us traded waves for the next few hours and it felt great being back. It truly is a world class right and peels for hundreds of yards - a regular footers paradise.
Dave got accidentally run over 'again' by a Spanish guy and Anna-Marie bravely collided with the Plough! She deserved a medal for that...
The Plough had a few and found the take off a bit tricky to begin with as he was testing out his new 9ft log and a shallow, barrelling reef probably wasn't the easiest spot to find his feet!
No footage of this session as we were all too busy surfing but we had some of the best waves of the trip out there.
The spongers, Dave and Anna-Marie all scored some nice waves and it was good to see Anne charging!
The clock was ticking and it was time to hit the ferry once more at 4pm. It was a brief visit but enough. My thirst was quenched, for now.
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