Slow Living And Fast Waves

I wake up very early these days. It's 2:30 a.m. on a Sunday, and I can't help it—it comes naturally. I go to bed around 8:00 p.m.

At the end of a great wave, looking back to the break to see what I have to paddle trough now.

I'm starting to feel more like myself again, motivated to get back to work and my healthy lifestyle. This place is perfect for resetting and getting my head and heart straight.

The air smells so sweet here. It's clean and salty, mixed with the earth's scent. Krui is one of the few underdeveloped parts of the world left, and the waves are ridiculous—in a good way. I'm afraid to even write about it because I don't want to contribute to its discovery. Thanks to the internet and Google Earth, nowhere is safe; we've created a free-for-all when it comes to access to the planet and its very bad for secrecy and keeping places pristine. All I can hope is that we are a bit more educated and responsible about developing the few gems that still exist. Although I seriously doubt it.

I have a little scooter with a board rack that gives me the independence to explore. In the morning, after my latte, I pack up my zinc, sunscreen, and favorite Tropics of C bikini (the only one that’ll stay on with the waves) and head to Beachies, a beach break not three minutes from my lodge. It has a sandy bottom and throws out little barrels, making it the perfect place for me to get my toes wet, so to speak, in the barreling world.

Beachies break

Yesterday, I bumped into some new friends there—a beautiful couple, Pilar and Ricardo from Portugal. I met them a couple evenings ago during sunset and told my friend Liz, "Damn, see how loving and attentive they are towards each other? That’s what I want." She was quick to agree with me. All women want is love and attention, boys—don’t get it twisted.

Sunsets here are bloody orange. It's a show.

Pilar isn’t surfing at the moment, recovering from a back injury, but Ricardo is a proper maverick out there. It’s inspiring to watch him maneuver the waves on his board. As for me, I’m a work in progress, and these super-fast beach breaks provide the best education.

The swell here goes left and right with no apparent order, and all I can do is chase the lefts like a puppy after a ball. I went for eight or nine waves in the course of two hours, boinked a couple, made the rest, and then got a little barrel that closed out on my head. I popped out the other side, surprised at how simple it felt to pull into the barrel and watch the water wrap around me and engulf me in a warm embrace of badassness. Obsessed.

Among us was a young man from the Canary Islands. We made friends and chatted as we caught some good ones. I love watching stronger surfers and learning from them, and right now, in this part of the world, in a 95% male-dominated environment, everyone’s a stronger surfer, but I’m cool with it. I’m inspired by it actually. Safe to say, Ruben knows what’s up when it comes to waves.

We had breakfast together afterward, and he took me to the point to see the break. I hadn’t been out there yet, and boy, was it a gorgeous little ride out. I put my AirPods on, blasted my French Caribbean music, and rode for 30 minutes heading south on a two-way lane made for scooters and motorbikes. So much green all around me—a combo of rice fields and raw jungle, mountains on my left, and the ocean on my right. Dreamy.

Coolest ding reapair shop that ever was!!!

When we arrived, the waves were peeling beautifully. Fat lefts extended for a few hundred meters. It was around 10:30 a.m. and pretty empty, maybe 10 people out. Ruben was beat and needed a rest from surfing four hours already, but I had a second wind. After exchanging numbers and promising to meet again, I readied myself for my second session of the day.

You know the drill: double knots on the bikini, zinc all over my face and chest, sunblock everywhere else. I don’t want the cancer, but I do want perfect tan lines.

Paddling out, I noticed how gorgeous the reef was beneath me and made a mental note to bring my freediving gear the next day. It was shallow but full of crevices—deep ones. The kind I like to creep into, go through, and play mermaid in. Transparent, turquoise, clean water, and full of turtles. They are so cute, popping their little heads up to take a few breaths, their eyes locking on yours as if to say, "I see you; you’re okay, but stay where you are."

Valentina & Keenan. How wild that we're all here at the same time withouth knowing or coordinating. Most random place in the world to find eachother.

There were two other girls on the break: my friend Valentina, also visiting from Hawaii with her husband Keenan by her side, and Maea—a Billabong-sponsored Tahitian beauty. She looked like she was 16 but then shared that she’s in university, which puts her in her late teens to early 20s at most. We surfed for a few hours, and I caught some good ones. There was one wave in particular that I’ll remember forever. I was sitting very deep for this one, at the head of the lineup, and waiting for the big one. I’m not going to call it a bomb because the swell was smallish, but it was definitely a decent-sized wave. When it came in, the fast build-up surprised me, and I angled hard to my left. I caught it perfectly. As soon as I popped up, I started pumping to stay high on it and make it past the crest, which was threatening to crumble in front of me. I made the section, - yesss!!!  I flew onward, determined to ride this one to the end. I passed the whole lineup, started my first turn inward, made it to the white water, and carved back up. Another turn came after, carving hard towards the white water and then twisting left and up the wall again, I saw it closing out just ahead and punched out of it—sweet. No hastle, straight out to the channel to start the long paddle back to the peak.

What a day I had, what an experience. As always, grateful.