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CHILDREN ON BOARD

WO

RD

S A ND

P HO

T OS

BE N

S E L WA Y

A DC UK ROAD TRIP TO PORTUGAL

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1/6 I completely forgot about having to do this trip. It was late November and with December looming on the horizon my mind was only really focused on one important thing; the anniversary of the birth of Christ. With only a month to go

before Jesus’ big day I had so much to do and so little time to do it in. This would explain why I became so distressed when team manager James Stentiford enlightened me to our previously arranged engagement. By going on this trip it meant that I would have to cancel all of my plans which included a reindeer parade through my local town, numerous glitzy social events and the commencement of late night shopping. I wasn’t really looking forward to meeting and trying to impress new people, either. What if no one liked me? To compound my spiralling mood, James also informed me that I would have to drive to Gatwick Airport, which was over six hours away. I left Cornwall feeling down. However, the quiet interior of the car provided me with a much needed space for contemplation. During the drive I had many thoughts; why am I here?

When I arrived, I felt de-stressed and calmer than I had in days.

AIRPORT MANIA:

At the airport a screaming toddler was set loose upon my new found serenity and I became distraught again when it took over 35 minutes to find the Summer Special Parking area. The middle-aged Chinese woman at the desk failed to ease my troubles and she wouldn’t stop talking to me. I suspected that she was eager for something erotic to happen between us and I could tell by her pheromones that she would’ve liked nothing more than for me to cancel my engagements and book us a room at the local airport

hotel. She was being unrealistic about everything and I was angered by her appalling timing. She would’ve had more success in being mounted if she did the flirting during the return journey pick up - not whilst I was en route on the trip which was responsible for so many of my plans having to be cancelled. Inside the airport I was greeted by Cotty and Al Mennie, who were on the same flight and on their way to some tow surfing contest. In spite of the early hour, Cotty seemed jovial and I profited from his benevolence with a free latte. We chewed the fat about grown up things such as his impending fatherhood and marriage. I decided to refrain from telling them both about the Chinese woman because it seemed inappropriate, and besides, this was the first time I’d met Al face to face and I needed to make a good impression. He is huge and red and has an honest man’s handshake. I have no doubt in my mind he would be a great person to have on your side in a combat situation and I am glad that he and I are on good terms, therefore it is in no way a sign of disrespect that I am now going to stop writing about him. You see, both he and Cotty have nothing to do with this story and Editor, Greg Martin will only magic any more mentions out if I continue. Soon I am joined by DC Team Manager, James Stentiford. When the anti-aging fairy waved her wand, she must have sprinkled him with a more than ample amount of her magical dust because at age 40, he looks youthful and handsome. Complimenting his adolescent exterior is the customary DC uniform and the kind of hairstyle I’d pay good money for. In tow are my three subjects for the next week; Harry de Roth, Luke Dillon and Jobe Harriss – all squabbling over sweets, of which they share none.

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2/6The following morning James and I organised the boys. We felt just like a gay couple getting their three successfully adopted sons ready for school! Even though it was the first morning, today was pivotal. Our expectations had been

gently stroked into a magnificent erection of excitement when we learned that the surf was going to be big. This was confirmed the previous evening ex-DC team rider and Peniche resident, Dane Hall. He said that the beach on the previous day was huge and stormy and, although much cleaner, today should be big too. Now, either Dane was lying or he had been drinking, because when we checked it, the surf wasn’t large at all – it was fun-sized to medium in height at best. I felt a tad disappointed because I was looking forward to watching the children receive a baptism of fire in eight to 10 feet Supertubes. Eager to appear conscientious in front of James, I suited up and entered the water. Once in though, I grew weary very quickly and in addition to that, I had a fogged water housing which will explain why there are no good quality fish-eye shots throughout the feature. I can only apologise for this.

WAGER:Later that evening we headed to the local pizzeria which served 50 inch pizzas. They are huge and full of calories; these are the kinds of things you need to start worrying about as you get older. James opted for the healthier option of a light salad and some pasta which tortured me inside. I reminded myself that James doesn’t look like a spritely 20 something from eating pizza, but I just couldn’t resist the urge, so I settled with a medium, 35 inch affair with a side of garlic bread. Before the meal someone betted Harry that he wouldn’t be able to finish off his pizza, so the St.Ives youngster gleefully accepted the challenge. If he didn’t manage it, then he’d have to spend the entire following day without drinking any UCAL – the local choc milk. If he won the bet, he would be allowed to drink as much as he liked. When the pizza arrived Harry was upset when he discovered the chef had decorated it with onions, mushrooms and green peppers. Sadly, for the makers of UCAL, sales of their milky drink were dealt a minor blow because these were all ingredients Harry’s 13 year old taste buds didn’t like, and, in spite of him trying his best at removing all of the offending food stuffs, it was unanimously declared that removing any part of the pizza meant that the bet was lost. This resulted in no choc milk for Harry and an end to what was a shining example of good, clean, innocent fun.

3/6Today Jobe, Harry and Luke all had a stupid argument about whose home town the best out of Newquay (Luke), Bude (Jobe) or St.Ives (Harry). I listened with intrigue. Jobe’s offering was purely based upon quality over quantity

along with the absence of crowds while Harry’s on the other hand, simply didn’t have a valid line of reasoning whatsoever. Luke was very defensive about Newquay being bad-mouthed, especially when at one point, it appeared that both Harry and Jobe formed a two-pronged attack on him. They both said nasty things such as ‘Fistral is the biggest pile of shit’ and ‘Newquay is crap!’ Luke was upset by this and retaliated by asking them how many beaches do their respective towns have. As soon as they all established Bude had five beaches and St.Ives’ had three, he then proudly declared that Newquay had seven, which, in his mind was seen as victory. Jobe then continued with his quality over quantity argument,

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while Harry just kept bad-mouthing Fistral with offensive language. Luke then posed the question ‘how many fast food restaurants does St.Ives have? He then told us that Newquay has KFC, McDonalds, Burger King and Subway.’ This seemed to kill the argument and I was left confused. I wondered if there was a positive to having an abundance of fast food restaurants in your home town because fast food is bad; children everywhere are dying of heart attacks because of it.

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HARRY DE ROTH After today’s surfing madness, I conducted this short interview with Harry De Roth:

BEN: If you could only listen to one album for the rest of your life, what would it be? HDR: I don’t know. BEN: Ok. What about the same question, but instead of album, we said ‘artist’? HDR: I don’t know. BEN: What sort of music do you like? HDR: I don’t know. BEN: You must have a favourite type of music.. HDR: Ben, I don’t know! BEN: Do you like the Kings of Leon? Do you like their music? HDR: Yeah, they’re alright actually. BEN: Would you choose them to listen to and no one else? HDR: I don’t know.

4/6It’s only day four and these 8am starts are already becoming exhausting. The day started slowly and, although too small for the Supertubes, it was a bit too big for lots of the other surfing zones. I suggested we head to Foz de Lizandro where the waves are usually fun and the cafés serving milky coffees are plentiful.

The rear of the beach is made up of a series of beautifully constructed boardwalks, which conveniently manage to spare all users from a long and tiring walk on the sand. Today I felt the happiest I had been since having to cancel all of my pre-festive plans; the sun at the top of the hour was 23 degrees and, without a cloud in the sky, it had already begun to becloud my bleachy-white skin with a beautiful, soon-to-be golden tan.

5/6During this morning’s surf check I tried steering the conversation on to the subject of Christmas and what kinds of presents everyone had asked their mums and dads for, but no one seemed to be interested in this topic. Out front the waves were small, clean and perfect for ripping on. Luke and Harry gave the

rights some special attention and impressed onlookers with a dizzying display of aerials and carving manoeuvres, while Jobe spent his time punishing the lefts. He surfs well; his frame is wiry and tall. I like to call him the man child because he surfs beyond his years; his bottom turns are full of purpose and the laybacks he unfurled on the lips were clean and powerful. I

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shot the action from the land until the sun set, but spent the remainder of the day bemused about the children’s lack of enthusiasm for Jesus’ big day. There is something seriously wrong with this generation.

ROCK ‘N ROLL:That night I was still upset about their aversion to Christmas and I didn’t feel in the mood for socializing so I played Scrabble by myself in my room. After scoring a whopping 74 points for EQUINE I then tried to think about how I could write this article different so that you, the reader, would become even more engaged than you presently are. I wondered if I should attempt to make everything rhyme, like a gangster rap! Soon, I quickly grew bored of trying to make all of the sentences sound the same, so instead I lay on the bed staring at the ceiling. My mind began to drift toward all of the surf trips of old. Before, surf missions weren’t just about surfing. Back then we used to go to trawl the bars for women so the surfers had someone to make love to. Occasionally I would get lucky and the surfers would allow me to come back with them, and I could quietly watch them have their wicked way with these women through the key hole! However, these days everything has changed – the kids are all about early nights, salad and stretching before bed time. I then concluded that there would be no chance of such activity on this trip because, ranging between 13 and 16 years old, the surfers were simply far too young to be chasing girls to practise the devils business with. I could feel boredom slowly constricting its arms around me, as it began to put me to sleep. Must stay awake, it’s only 8pm. I let my eyes dart about the room in search of a new activity to undertake. I just didn’t know what to do next! I then spied the bathroom and knew instantly what was about to follow - a warm shower! Inside I let the piping hot steam of water cleanse my rotting soul and, whilst spinning around, I sang Paradise by Coldplay at the top of my lungs. Warm and with my skin tingling, I flung myself on the bed and drifted into a long, undisturbed sleep.

6/6I won’t write about the surfing that went down today. It was our last morning and everything seemed rushed. When we checked the surf we found a small post with some dog shit on it and everyone discussed how it got there. After the surf session, we had to get changed, pack our belongings into the car and head

to the airport - all in the space of four hours.

AN ARGUEMENT:Inside the airport there was a huge queue for security. A blazing row erupted between myself and the man waiting behind me after Harry, Jobe and Luke joined me mid-way up the line without having to wait from the back. He said

‘you know guys, this is a queue. You pushed in so you have to join the back.’ Feeling like a Lioness defending her cubs, I sternly asked him if he seriously expected these children to wait on their own without the correct supervision. I also told him he could move up the queue by waiting in front of us, to which he replied ‘I just want to wait in my place of the queue without people pushing in, in front of me.’ I didn’t reply because I felt as though I won - I showed him, and I’d be sure to tell everyone about it at home! However, soon, my feelings of triumph were replaced with guilt. I realised that it was me who lost the arguement; sure, we managed to go through security before him, but he was right; the kids should’ve learned their lesson the hard way by being spanked and ordered to wait at the back like everyone else.

BABY TALK: On the plane home, I sat next to James who said ‘having done the trip with Harry, Luke and Jobe, I think it confirms to me that I reckon having children will be fun.’ I agreed with James, but deep down, I didn’t mean it. I couldn’t think of anything worse than having a baby right now.

HOMEWARD BOUND:40 minutes later I found myself back at the Summer Special Parking office. I was tired and in no mood for the Chinese woman. Luckily, she wasn’t there and I managed to escape the building without attracting too much attention. I wondered if she had been fired for insubordination. But even if she had, I wasn’t going to waste my time caring. It was late and the cold had iced the inside of my car’s windows, and with Christmas just around the corner, I had so many things to do, and so little time to do it in.

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