Leaving my last home and job, I had the plans already made; staying for two weeks on the coast to watch the Quicksilver and Roxy Pros. Bus ticket in hand, My friends mother and one of the kindest people you could ever meet, Mama G, dropped me at the bus station for the next lag of my journey.

Instantly, the bus driver and I start chatting and stories, jokes, and observations on society swap hands. Everything from his desires to go to the rocky mountains, to the quarky ‘Bush Tucker Man’ tv show from the ’90’s. (For those that watch Bear Grylls, This is much better, and HIGHLY recommended as an actual form of survival knowledge if ever lost in the outback.) As we turnd into small towns, we started playing “spot the Bogan”, which is similar to Jeff Foxworthy’s ‘you may be a redneck if’. This ranged from the massive southern cross tatoos, to the car that replaced the anteni with a bent wire coat hanger. Dont believe me?

When I made it to the coast, the sound of the ocean, the smell of salt, and the powder sand welcomed me back. I arrived on the second day of the competition, which meant that i could wake up SUPER early the next day to watch all the surfers before the crowds.

Now, those who know me know that I suck at surfing. I love the sport, even get up on the board on occasion. A long board. Rarely. (As opposed to my siblings that I watch in awe as they turn circles around me.) I find it such a graceful sport, and the better the surfers the easier it is to get AMAZING shots.

With my first day being the first day of the Roxy pro, the waves looked wonderful in an endless-summer type consistent roll.  Breaking off snapper rocks, the wave would roll and glide sideways to the beach, which makes watching the event a treat.

(more photos at flickr.com/photos/kikilathrop)

After a couple days of these wonderful breaks, they started to fade, forcing the ASP to call lay days. rather than sit on the beach and work on my sunburn, I spent some time walking around the city, eating at the take-away shop, and meeting people in the hostel.

on a daily check into the ASP site, the message comes up “come on down to snapper rocks for a free Jimmy Buffett concert”. Lets see; I grew up on a boat, surfing sun sand and salt run in my family and veins. I know Jimmy Buffett songs enough to sing Margaritaville in its entirety to the Belgium girl in my room. I grabbed my camera, lenses, and dashed to the bus, arriving in time to sit about 15 ft (5m) from the stage. In addition to Jimmy, Kelly Slater and Stephanie Gilmore got up to do duets with them. Lets just say, if they want to retire from surfing, music would be a viable option for them.

My luck is amazing! =)