The Case Of Curious George

By Todd Maguire on June 14, 2011 in Other

It was worse than a slap in the guts with an eight pound flathead. Alberto was not one to cry over spilt milk, but a chance meeting with his curiously gifted lifelong hero was a genuine disappointment.

A well-spent youth working on the wharves in Sydney and having a good run at grade footy for the Chooks kept Alberto out of trouble. He even managed a spot on national TV selling hardware. Alberto certainly had his wits about him as well as cutting a fine figure, according to the local three-wheelers.

One afternoon whilst reading a borrowed surfing magazine his mind took on a new passion. As he read of a revolutionary new board design, Alberto mentally surfed the pages. The board designer responsible was creating cutting-edge equipment and had moved to the north coast for the perfect waves. The whole idea had Alberto intrigued.

There weren’t many mags on surfing around in those days so Alberto proceeded to source all the information he could dig up on this mysterious surfer/shaper. He fine-tuned his own equipment and spent every waking hour in the ocean. Alberto had been infected by a lethal dose of the surfing bug.

Many years down the track, Alberto’s surfing passion happened to land him living on the north coast of NSW. He was happy, and passionate for his morning walk and surf at the uncrowded beach. Quality waves at his door certainly tickled his fancy. Times were good.

His ritualistic stroll along the miles of empty beach this one morning revealed a very bad predicament for a local fisherman. As Alberto approached he noticed a rough and ready 4WD bogged by the rising tidal surges. Water was lapping at the windows of the haphazard vehicle; the curiously gangly arms of the mop-topped fisho were not strong enough to wrestle with the sea this day. The jet ski on an attached trailer did not help to ease the pain.

Alberto recognised the victim instantly and had a snigger. It was the mentor from the surfing magazines from all those years ago. This man before him in dire straits was the reason Alberto was so passionate about surfing. Despite being a true waterman, the ocean was winning this battle. How on earth had the sea got such an upper hand on this chap?

Alberto broke from his ponder and alerted two beach fishermen nearby who came to the rescue with their brand new 4WD Landcruiser. It was poetry in motion to watch the Paddington tractor being used for its true purpose. With a lashing of a tie rope and a well-chosen low gear, the swamped car was popped from the ocean like a champagne cork from its bottle. The heroic men managed to save the grateful hippy fisherman and his ride.

Everyone was a winner. Everyone except Alberto that is. The salvaged jet ski on the accompanying trailer was miraculously laden with a fresh catch of fish. The curious fellow had been to some outer reef for the morning and netted a plethora of good-sized flathead. He happily threw the fishermen a prized fish each but failed to offer one to Alberto. He was the instigator of the rescue mission but was left empty handed. Close, but no cigar. Alberto was shattered.

Back home, poor Alberto was down in the dumps for days. He was a big fan of this bloke as he was the inspiration for taking up surfing in the first place. Finally coming face to face with his lifelong hero was a real disappointment.

Luckily, his daughter was not only a good looker, she knew her way around the kitchen like no other. She sympathised for her grief stricken father and whipped him up a prized baked lamb dinner with all the trimmings to help soften the blow. Alberto smiled as he cheered his glass of vino. Surely this was far better than a slap in the guts with an eight pound flathead from that curiously mysterious mentor.