I remember a few years back and the swell was solid 6-8ft. I was cursing having to rock off. This particular jump off has one of those little safety zones where you wait for a lull but can’t see much as the cliff-face juts out, blocking the initial wave impact. You just poke your head around the corner and look for a break in the sets. It was still a dim pre-dawn light as I took my first look around the corner, so at first I didnt really believe what I saw. A fisherman, all raincoat and gumboots, standing out on the exposed shelf. I also saw a set coming so I ducked back to safety. Whitewater surged up and out nearly sweeping me off my feet. My toes dug into the barnacles. Grip. When the set passed I dashed around the corner to scramble out. I find the fisherman blissfully baiting up as if the ocean were flat that day. Fishermen … crazy as cut snakes.
More than 200 rock anglers in the Australian state of New South Wales have been killed in the last 40 years