Globe's Todd Lee got me out of my scratcher this morn at 6am telling me I was gonna miss my boat to Tavy. I jumped up, flung my things in the satchel of journalism and ran down the steep hill to the quay sans p'tit dej. Only while we were motoring over massive wind chops in the predawn glow did we get the call that it's in fact smaller than yesterday, no contest today. merde!

I'm in the restaurant again watching the creme of the planets waveriding talent eat brekkie, i can't have any coz I dont have any more kidneys to sell to pay for it, so i'm just supping coffee inhaling the aroma of warm cinnamon swirls, fluffy yellow scrambled eggs and a veritable medley of assorted tropical fruits. these are the breaks.

the word is now tomozza/tuesday, they only need two half days (or one whole day) to finish the thing, 15 heats in total to run (8 heats of round 4, 4 quarters, 2 semis and le finale) so they're obviously gonna wait and get the pick of the oceanic motion before waiting period closes on the 6th.

well, sun's coming up now getting ready to cain my haole epidermis once again. if you're gonna spunk half your travel budget on one trip to the south seas, might as well get some freckles, is it.

red or dead!