Cape never fails. Every time I head down, my heart skips a beat with every thunderous wave that pounds into the sandstone cliffs. Standing too close? Possibly! The spray on the front of the lens and the occasional need to jump out of the way as a rogue one jets in—it’s wild.

I wanted to, but I just couldn’t get myself to jump in. For good reason too, the chaotic surf washing against the rocks the return to land would’ve got messy. Just ask the bloke who got pumped directly in front of me. A wave violently ripped off one of his fins and sandpapered him across the rocks. No thanks!

A powerful Easter morning down there is just next-level insane.