Ever been stranded by dropping wind on a low volume board? Tell us your worst tale of woe.

I remember once I wanted to go out. I was at Dolls Point (southern end of Sydney Airport beach) and a huge westerly wind was blowing. Sure, dumb place to go out in a Westerly, but I was desperate and figured I'd just have to work my way back to the beach after I had my fun.

Well, after a broad reach over to near Towra Point, there was a huge rainstorm, followed by a perfect calm - and I mean CALM. All of Botany Bay turned to glass, and I had to pack up my rig on the water, and paddle the 1.5 km back to the beach against an outgoing tide.

Never made that mistake again.

Regards,
Harrow.

I will tell a story about a mate of mine, windsurfing on Lake Eucumbene in the NSW snowy mountains, this was our favourite spot years ago, he was out hooting along in a huge storm front, then, whilst in the middle of the lake, the wind dropped and then stopped.

A huge fog rolled in! he was floating in the middle of the lake in a total white out! he floated for over 2 hours, had no idea of what where or when ! at least your not going to be eaten by anything out there, but friggin cold!

I was sailing off Northbeach in Wollongong once in a nice 18kt or so NE'r. Thought I'd go for one last run, lucky I never go too far offshore as once I'd gybed and travelled about 100m back towards the beach the wind stopped dead, absolutely dead. Now with the windswell that had developed throughout the day it was absolutely impossible to uphaul the rig and stay on the board; even on the 105L Hypersonic. I tried for a few minutes then resigned my fact that i'd have to swim back in. Luckily when I got close to the beach a few helpfull people grabbed my board so I could get the 8.5m race sail through the breakers; if that had been munched :(

After Ken Crew (was that his name?) was killed by a shark at Cottesloe they closed the beaches for a week or so up and down the coast. About 3 days after the attack, a 20kt SW was blowing at Dutchies and I was desperate for a sail cause that particular season had terrible wind. I was working at Broadway Surf & Sail (when it was at Nedlands) when my work buddy and I decided we couldn't handle another session at Pelican Point so headed for Dutchies. When we arrived there was no one around which was eery cause usually there would 30-50 sailors out in the arvo. It was one of those days where a trough was basically sitting on top on Perth and there was hardly any wind close to shore but u could see white caps everywhere a few hundred metres out. I didn't feel great about sailing that day, but my work buddy hayden was a charger and rigged up. We headed out but were slogging to the wind line a few hundred metres out. I don't particularly like slogging on the ocean at the best of times let alone a few days after someone was mauled a few hundred metres up the coast. It seemed the wind line was moving towards Rottnest at about the same speed we were sailing so it was like a mirage effect where u could see the white caps just ahead but could never reach it. We never actually reached the white caps and by this stage I reckon we were close to a 2km out. The wind died completely, and I was left with water up to my knees on my 70L board (I'm 80kg) not moving forward 1 cm looking back at the land in the far distance. At this stage I thought that I was going to be eaten by the same shark that killed Ken. So we derigged and started paddling back to shore. Now I can tell u that paddling back that day was absolute torture. Every stroke I was waiting for the shark to grab me from underneath. The sun was getting low and the water turned a darker shade of blue and I was imagining shadows everywhere...I'm not kidding but I was on the verge of freaking out. Hayden seemed as cool as a cucumber which helped me stay calm. As we were paddling, we were being pushed up the coast towards Cottesloe Beach. About an hour later as we getting closer to the groin, there was a group of people standing there pointing at us probably thinking we were:
1. Absolute charger watermen
2. Absolute retards.

We washed up on Cottesloe beach buggered as hell and I walked up to the road and saw a copper and asked him for a lift back to Dutchies as I was knackered. That's where the story ends my friends.... but I'll never forget it!

Itch,

Reminds me of the time I took off from Bundeena beach during a big Southerly on a broad reach out to sea. What an idiot. In just a few minutes I looked over my shoulder and realised I would never make it back. My back up plan was to hopefully get blown into Boat Harbour (on the ocean side of Kurnell.)

I ended up getting rescued by some deep sea fisherman. Man that was a STUPID thing to do.

When I started windsurfing I mostly hung out at Pelican Point in Perth. In my first season I noticed a few guys would go out on Melville water between South Perth and the city in strong easterlies. So one saturday when strong easterlies were forecast I got up early and headed down to the boat shed in south perth and rigged up. The wind was pretty good, and the water was real smooth, ideal conditions for a wet behind the ears novice.
I cruised out about 200 - 300 yards on my first run before heading back to the south perth shore. On the second run I was having such a blast that I just kept going, thinking I would jibe when I got close to shore on the city side. And that is where my fun morning came to an end. Being a newby (and a bit thick as well) I hadn't figured that the Perth city skyline would kill the breeze, and I cruised blissfully into nothingness. I probably should've paddled back out into the wind zone, but the shore was closer so that's where I focused my energy.

I hauled my gear up onto the boardwalk near the bell tower weaving me way amongst the saturday morning joggers. Deciding to leave my gear there - a guy who had been asleep on a park bench said he would keep an eye on it for me - I padded down to the Barrack St jetty to catch the ferry back across to south perth, looking every bit as fashionable as the joggers in my wetsuit and harness. The ferryman bought my sorry tale, and let me ride for free, although he wouldn't let me take a seat, so I had to stand at the front of the ferry like a stale bottle of piss for the duration of the journey.

I picked up my car and headed back to the city where the street person was still keeping and eye on my rig, so I slipped him $10 for his trouble.

I tell you the whole experience scared the hell outta me, and you wont ever catch me windsurfing near tall buildings again.