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Friday the 13th

Posted on June 19, 2008 @ 7:56 AM

It was time to clear out. “Let’s go free surfing, let’s go find some waves, that’s as good as it gets in surfing,” frothed Kauai’s Gavin Gillette, and he was spot on. Competition wise everything may have not gone exactly to plan, but with the swell switch seemingly stuck on “four foot and pumping,” and with foam fringed coral reefs sluicing in every direction, it was time to find some waves and unleash some free surfing action.

Aboard the Teate, we set sail for north, away from the tropical resorts with their aqua marine bays and blinding white beaches and up to a few hidden waves in the northern atolls. A couple of hours later, we motored into a large channel and almost screwed our collective necks, frantically looking between a perfect reeling left, and a spitting hollow right on either side of the channel.

Once again the scramble was again for boards and wax and boats and cameras and leashes and sunscreen as everyone tried to get out there as fast as humanly possible. The left was chosen first, and it was attacked. It was only when a boat load of 12 hyper- enthusiastic Israeli surfers invaded the wave on mass, that I started to think something was up. And then a huge six foot set of waves rolled through the line-up, managing to expertly pick out our videographer and land square on his head. It was at that point that it dawned on me that it was Friday 13th. “A big wave hit me,” said Martin, his eyes the size of dinner plates, “and everything was stripped from me - my fins, my camera, everything.”

Luckily action man and all round super hero Gav was keeping a close eye and quickly raced in, scooped up the camera and saved the day. While all this was going on, I spotted Tim and Michel, escaping off to the right. In the end, their timing was impeccable, with the two good mates sharing an epic hour session, all on their own, before the rest of the Rising troop, cottoned on and paddled over their quick smart.

“Yeah it was amazing, just Tim and I surfing perfect tubes on our own,” said the Michel, after coming in from what ended up being a five-hour surf. “ It was incredible,” agreed Tim, “surfing on our own, but I’ll tell you, surfing with Michel is like surfing with three people anyway.”

He had a point, as Michel must have caught a hundred waves, his timing, speed, balance and awareness incredible. The guy’s surfing, well his whole act is pure class. That night, Kingy organised a quick training session, with quick, low impact boxing bouts and he himself sparred with Michel. “He moves and punches, at the same time with so much speed and balance. Do you realise how hard that is to do?” Kingy said, incredulously afterwards. “And you know, the Tahitian people are traditionally so mellow and cruisy, and yet to see how determined and focused and disciplined Michel is, its such a revelation.

After the session, the boys sat down for dinner, and then crowed around the computer screen to watch, and analyze the day’s surfing. We were a million miles from anywhere, with no phone’s, no internet, no TV, looking, loving and living the pure act of surfing. The ever constant swell rocked the boat and thoughts turned to the next day. “I can’t believe we are out of here, in a day or two,” said Clipper. “I’m going to bed, and I can’t wait for the sun to come up. I’m all over it, we have to make the most of this boys.” There were no arguments, time was running out, the next event in Durban looming, we were in for a couple of exciting days.

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