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I was already preparing to slip into my wet and cold wetsuit again, but the bay stayed flat. And this didnīt change until it got dark, and the crew out there paddled back to shore through a lake-like sea. This was strange. I know that a 17 second period does mean long lulls, but the persistent complete flatness made those two sets seem like a hoax, a fata morgana, something that didnīt actually happen.
I drove to the local supermarket and up to the bunker museum at Hanstholm – the only legal place in the area to spend the night outside a camping – and cooked some noodles to warm up and fill up my carbohydrate store. The forecast for Tuesday was promising a little more swell size with a little less period, which meant that I might need some reserves for a surf.
Tuesday morning, I got up before dawn and drove over to my preferred outlook over the north shore. Up there I nervously waited for the first light of the day to show me if some swell was on offer. Once it was enough light to get an idea it looked pretty promising. I waited for a couple of sets to roll in to see if it was consistent enough and then drove down to the beach. Once down there it was flat.
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