Life is Not Easy â€å“life is Not Easy

Here's an email I wrote to my friends almost three years ago after returning safe and sound from Gnaraloo.

Maybe you like it.

I think it's the right time to share it, as this spot surely deserves its respect from everyone. From a kitesurfing point of view as well as a respect for nature point of view.

Don't spoil it.

From: "Marco"
To:
Subject: Kitesurfing Western Australia, a full-on experience.
Date: Sun, 18 Jan 2004 12:35:10 +0100

Dear all,

I have returned from an ultimate experience and slowly coming to my senses as I put my thoughts on paper. Extreme experiences in a physical and emotional sense. Flat-out as the Aussies say. Even spiritually.

Five weeks of kitesurfing in Western Australia. Travelled approximately 5000km in a worn out van in pursuit of wind and waves. Focussed on waveriding. Soul surfing.

Dedicated to the hunt for perfect conditions. Which we eventually found in the outback of Gnaraloo, 10km south of the Tropic of Capricorn, about 1000km north of Perth and about 120km on dirt roads from the nearest town. We slept in our van on a campsite without electricity and fresh water, so we had to bring our own fresh water and food. The price you have to pay for perfect conditions. But hey, it keeps the sightseers away!

December 31st 2003. The ocean is churning, driven by the 30-35 knots wind. Huge and powerful swell with well over mast high waves which instantaneously ranked Wijk aan Zee in Holland to merely a kindergarten. I had never seen waves so fast, long and so powerful before. The waves were that big that they became hollow and turned into barrels which could have easily encompassed our van. Each wave hit the reef with an ominous roar. Silence reigned among the surfers standing on the rocks. Humble in the face of creation. The reef and the waves showed absolutely no mercy, ruthless. Hardcore kitesurfing conditions.

Would I take on these 4-5 meter walls of water? Every wave is one of the most purest form of energy which could have travelled half the globe. Contemplations. This could be dangerous. There was no proper beach to safely launch our kites so somebody had to help us and swim out with our kite in the ocean while we stood on this 3m wide stretch of beach to be able to launch our kites. Downwind were rocks. Nothing but sharp rocks. You must be somewhat insane to launch a kite here. No wonder we were the only two kitesurfers out there and the spot is not frequently visited by kitesurfers.

No guts, no glory. Our smallest, colourful kites appeared amid the turquoise turbulence. Dodging turtles on our way and crossing dark shadows under the water while you comfort yourself with the thought that they are well fed. Going outbound, heading straight for a four meter wave. Accelerating, riding up the wave and catapulting ourselves into the blue sky. The sound of the wind fades away as we drift downwind and the windsurfer’s masts become the size of matches. A hang time of probably over 5-6 seconds. I fly, feeling the salt air on my face and registering every second until I land. Surrounded by absolute calm as we enjoyed the bird’s eye view on Gnaraloo’s reef break. Truly amazing. The rush of adrenaline. Stoked. A surfer’s word that stands for the thrill of being at one with the forces of nature. Let’s just hope that Mother Nature is not under the impression that we are looking down on her.

Then as we went inbound we whipped up our kites to catch up with the wave in front of us to be able to drop in and ride it. And it worked. A take off like a rollercoaster. I have never made so many bottom turns and cut backs on one single wave. Getting the most out of it while the impact zone of the wave is chasing you like a furious freight train with a deafening roar. The naked reef in front of the wave is smiling at you when the water above it is sucked into the wave. The reef becomes as shallow as a puddle. An overwhelming scene but I was not smiling back as I was in awe. More afraid to be eaten by the waves than by the sharks. Again, the rush of adrenaline. This is not the moment to be careless. All senses are on edge to stay close to the wave and not veer off too much in front of it. Coral is razor sharp. No need to stress that.

You come in contact with your own spirit through experiencing what the ocean has to offer. You get to the point where you’re thinking your way through your movements and everything is secondary. Your body is secondary, your equipment is secondary. You’re actually moving on terrain with your mind. There must be something in a spiritual sense to be able to do that. Nevertheless, you’ve outgrown your confidence when you think the waves are begging for mercy.

Thus, things did go wrong. Apparantly, we must have suggested that we were looking down on Mother Nature. She gets her revenge and brings us down to earth with our two feet on the reef as she reclaims our respect for her. Or is that just our perception of things? My friend’s board lost its grip on the water, lost control and dropped his kite in the drink to find his kite relaunching again before he even knew it. The kite shoots forward, slamming a windsurfer of his board by accident. Luckily the windsurfer and my friend were OK. The kite wasn’t though. It was ripped apart and he had to call it a day as he had to swim or crawl over the reef back to shore. For me, a wrong assessment of a wave made me end up to close to the impact zone of the wave with no way of escaping the breaking of the wave because of the shallow reef in front of it. The raging waters break over me and toss me as if I am caught in the spin cycle of a washing machine. Crushing me. Her revenge was not sweet, but salty though. No sense for what was up, down, right, left or right or wrong. In the midst of the hustle and bustle of the whitewater, you are waiting with bated breath for things to unfold. You’re in the hands of Mother Nature now. Will she spit me out or suck me deeper into her wave and rub me over the reef? She surely took my breath away. Then I felt this jerk of a lifeline pulling me outbound while the crushing and unscrupulous wave continued her way inbound. I was pulled out of the wave by my kite. I must have managed to keep my kite in the air by instincts while I was tossed around. Manifesting that these years in kindergarten paid off after all. Grateful for that, grateful for life. Then when I thought I had the chance to catch my breath again, I was crushed by the next wave and into the turmoil again. I found myself caught in a set of waves crushing in on me while I tried to recover and get on my board again. The story of my life. Kitesurfing as a metaphor of life.

“Life is a waveâ€Â

marshallmenbeely.blogspot.com

Source: https://kiteforum.com/viewtopic.php?t=2333826

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