What do I say and what do I do? I have too many memories and too many photos that a starting point is hard to find. This story actually starts way before the beginning in a different story all together.My memory fails me slightly but I believe it was in 2008 when I first went to this desolate part of Africa. The trip involved sand dunes, desert, a written off car, a safari, new friends, good waves and some photos shown to me in a photo album of bodyboarders riding a wave that was “too fast to surf and basically a closeout”. I had also heard that Cory Lopez was in town, but it was only a month or two later when the footage came out, that on that forsaken day I had driven an hour in the wrong direction to surf some average wave, well compared to what may well be the best and longest barrel in the world.
Every since then I have wanted to go back, but being 2500km from where I live, and needing the perfect swell direction as well as the time to do it, it just hasn’t happened. People from all over the world have surfed it and it is now well-known, but I still hadn’t made it to this pot of gold that had been dangling right in front of me since 2008. I had time to go in May 2012, but the right swell hadn’t arrived and so it got pushed back to 2013. After a few swells and footage trickling in of guys scoring it good, myself and Jordy Maree decided that no matter what the next swell we were going to hit it. WIth Frank Solomon being back in Cape Town after showing John John some of the West Coast’s wonders we had chatted a bit and I said I was keen to go. On Saturday I got the call from Frank, the charts were looking good.
The drive took us 22 hours straight, with each stop being to fill the thirsty V6 tank to the brim of our 4*4. The crew were myself, Jordy Maree aka ‘Grom’, Frank Solomon and Eugene aka ‘Ugen’. Our bums were bruised and we hadn’t slept much but as the sun rose over the Namibian desert after 14 hours of driving we were excited enough not to care. After endless hours of chasing mirages on the straight roads we finally found ourselves at our destination. The same place I had been those 5 years before, but with a different purpose now.
We drove to have a look at the wave, knowing that it would probably only work the next day, our thoughts were right but there were already a few windy lines and the Grom had to get in the water. We cracked a beer and watched the sunset hoping for better things to come. Many people including Jordy Smith have got skunked despite “guaranteed waves” so we knew not to set our expectations too high.
The next morning we drove through the salt pans full of excitement, and as we then drove over the sand we saw white water explosions in the distance, the swell had arrived! Driving up and seeing the first wave rolling down the misty point was literally mind-boggling. I have never seen anything like it and was almost speechless as the others cheered and whooped. There were plenty of other people there, but with about 3-4km of wave we chose to surf right at the top, where it was heavier, faster and meaner (we didn’t realise at the time).
When I first paddled out I was nervously excited, not knowing what to expect at all. Are they all makeable? What is the takeoff like? How big are the sets? And as the first wave came bearing down on my from kilometers up the point it looked like it would be impossible to catch. Luckily it looked a little fast where i was so I went over happy that I would choose an easier one to start off with. And from that I did a ‘dry run’, not my only one of the trip. I had paddled out at my dream wave, got washed a km down the point and not caught a proper wave. Walking back up I saw Frank get the biggest barrel of the trip. I could barely see him paddling then I saw he was in and it was just dark as a massive section unfolded, the wave spat hard and another section folded over with no sign of Frank, then he came flying out arms in the air, it was ridiculous! I tried to share his excitement with high 5’s and hugs when he came out, but still needed to get that one for myself.
After another dry run it finally happened, I chose the right one, chose my line and that was it, I was in the barrel.
Thinking it would be a quick one I started to get worried when another and then another section unfolded in front of me, surely I wasn’t going to make it. Hold on, I was getting closer to that light at the end of the tunnel, and then it all made sense and I realised how perfect the wave really is. I made it, held my head in disbelief and then that was it, the rest of the next 8 hourse of surfing were all a blur. By the end of your wave you couldn’t even remember your first couple of barrels, it is hard to remember 4 or 5 barrels on a wave. After two really good ones which almost brought me to tears I realised that surfing this wave was something really personal and spiritual one could say. You barely see the other surfers in the water, you walk for kilometers after each wave and then have the best barrel of your life all over again. It was like a TV game in the barrel, or a dream, whilst riding in the barrel you had the time to think, “is this really real?”.
Our bodies were broken, feet were hurting from walking and heads just full of memories of cylindrical visions. The next day the swell had dropped off a bit, but there were still some screamers coming through and Jordy paddled into probably the most perfect wave of the trip (see pics). But who can really say, so many waves went unridden and unseen by anyone other than the pilot experiencing it. I heard the words uttered “that was the best wave of my life” or “that was the best barrel of my life” too many times to mention.
As the swell dropped we explored the desert, howling at the jackals and waking up the sleeping seals. We headed over the dunes and spent our last evening in wonder, standing on a sand dune in the desert staring at the ocean which has just provided us waves beyond ones imagination. As we set off on the drive home, we barely even spoke of the waves we had surfed, other than random comments that would just pop out every now and again expressing disbelief at what we had just witnessed.
Many thanks to Eugene, Jordy and Frank for such an amazing trip as well as the other surfers we shared it with.
Chris