Just swiftly left the dez after three odd weeks of chill time up there.
After a morning of ninja skills stickin hectic drops into bombs, the Ferg paddled into the biggest set during the peak of the raddest swell we'd had up there and got served his first nasty injury for the year with a gnarly head on reef collision at full speed underwater.
I saw him come up with a mad bloody stare, swum straight over, waved Dino Adrians Dad in on his ski, and within 5 minutes Ferg was in the camp at three mile getting sorted out by camp legends George, Dino's Mum, Ming and Marni and a kindly surfing heart surgeon named Tim who puts in long stints at Gnarls every year.
Thanks to Tims skills with the knife during bush surgery, half an hour after Ferg was initially facing a long swim in followed by a three hour long dirt track drive to medics, the lad was unbelievably all set up with morphine, 16 perfect stitches and orders to stay out the water for a solid week.
Whats the chances of that eh? Luck of the Irish to be sure...