Fatty bumpkins

I'll happy admit to being greedy - I blame my genes as food has always been a high priority with my family. This week's forecast has shown itself up in all its bulemic glory - one moment it"s gorging on a feast of low pressures, blocking highs and fattening up the swell like a plump turkey. The next, its puking westerly winds all over the place like some sort of errant teenager after a cider binge.
Often when there is extra-hurricular activity going on out in the Atlantic, the forecasts models can't handle the extra warmth and moisture in the atmosphere and the charts go haywire. The dregs of hurricane Beryl are wafting around out there and although wild talk of amazing waves earlier in the week might have been a tad over zealous, waves are acomin'. There'll be some half decent wave bopping around later tomorrow, all day on Saturday, and perhaps even on Monday if you can be persuaded by the log and the wind decides to play nicely.
Saturday in particular looks pretty dingish, with double digit periods and a metre plus of swell. Forecasting aficionados will know that's more than enough to get the pussy wet, metaphorically speaking of course.

Either way, I'm off to France for a stint so no doubt a week of shit waves are coming.

here's some charts.

They look good but by the time the waves arrive so do the onshores.