Dawn at Coconuts, Midigama |
Paddling, excitement rustles deep inside, I admiringly observe the rolling waves, like mercury, they creep along the seabed, mapping the depths before reaching the shallow reef and curling into the blue sky, breaking with a crash of thunder and a trail of white water.
The waves call me, the thrill of riding these majestic waves of nature, on a board crafted from foam, cloth, resin and thin layers of glass fibre The art of surfing has always been surrounded in mystery, ever since Captain James Cook first observed the Polynesians, sailing the waves using carved tree trunks.
I slow at the peak, where the wave first begins to break and sit upon my board, watching, waiting, for that wave with my name on it. There is no wind this early, perfect conditions, the surface reflects like glass, refracting my legs dangling into the water. Shades of blues distinguish the depths below, as I stare out to sea, smiling.
Creeping toward me I notice a large swell, mine all mine my thoughts drift off, I turn and position my board, paddling to were I suspect the highest point will be. I wait and watch as it approaches, I lightly nudge myself forward, then using my arms I claw at the water, generating speed, alternating between left and right. The resistance between board and liquid is minimal, I lean forward brushing my chin over the top of the board and feel the power of the wave propel me forward.
Coconuts, Midigama |
I pop off the back before it gets too shallow, landing flat on my stomach to paddle back to where it all began, adrenaline pumping through my veins, like a child on Christmas day waiting to open another present. This is the reason I forbade sleep rising early and peddling the 2 kms in the dark to ride these waves until my arms ache and force my return to the shoreline, satisfied and hungry for breakfast.
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