The swell is BIG. It's mid-winter and there is a nip in the air. Louis has got us out of bed early and we are standing looking at the Wild Side. The wind is a north- wester - straight offshore here.

The swell is 10-12ft coming out of the southwest in 5 wave sets. "We gonna battle to find manageable waves in this swell guys!" chirps Jules. "What about G Reef?" says Glenn. "I could really handle 10ft plus lefts peeling for 300m!" The crew's minds are working now, mentally ticking off the possibilities. "We gonna surf Wild Point, guys", announces Louis. "It's spring low tide", I mumble to no one in particular. "Then we'll get it cooking on the push," says Louis. "OK, your car, your call" is the consensus.

Louis skilfully points the Hyundai northeast, and we're on the road. A good highway carries us towards the Wild Coast, but this smooth passage is going to get rougher. Oh yes, much rougher. Louis is on his cellphone. "Hello Dave. Listen, we are going to Wild Point. Remain on standby please". "Who was that, Louis?" we ask. "My mechanic", he says.

Thirty minutes later we are on a dirt road, and Louis is practising all his driving skills to find the smoothest section of a dusty road in the middle of nowhere. Fifty km later we are negotiating a little bridge over a stream that runs onto a remote beach. A hairpin bend takes us to a lookout spot in a bay. "Holy mackerel" is the cry as a 6 ft set peels across the inside and runs for a time before bombing out on a shallow sandbar. The boys are out of the car. "That was a bit quick", I exclaim. "That was a tube ride of note", we agree. "Let's check out the point", says Louis. "It's gonna be firing". This is a bad road, but we negotiate it in record time and move steadily along the trail before bumping to a halt at the tip of the point. A perfect offshore is warm already and fans a set which rolls in slow motion down the point. Wild Point at last!