July 1, 2012
Angourie means 'noisy ocean' in the local aboriginal language. It lived up to its name for the last three days, tormenting and teasing me with explosive surf concussions all day night. It's always nerve-wracking surfing a famous surf spot for the first time. One tends to sit back from the main peak out of both respect and unfamiliarity. If the waves are too large a tense situation can become dangerous. If it's crowded matters become even more complicated as now you must best other, more experienced locals. Plus some will drop in on you and steal your waves, which is dangerous and incredibly frustrating. On the other hand, you've travelled half way around the world to surf this wave and if you don't paddle out you may miss your only opportunity. Surf and wind conditions are often fickle. It may be too small or too windy tomorrow - or even later that day. In these kinds of situations I tend to become increasingly frustrated day by day as I wait for the right moment to paddle out. If I go too soon, I'll be humbled, frightened, or worse. If I wait too long I'll miss our and be plagued by feelings of anger and disappointment in myself.
Thus, for two whole days I anxiously watched local surfers, whom are more skilled than I and intimately familiar with Angourie Point, riding giant waves for hours as powerful currents dragged them dangerously close to cliffs and massive shore-breaking surf.
Yesterday, Catalina and I climbed a small hill overlooking Tube Rock, Spookies, and Angourie. The surf was massive and we found an older guy at the top of the muddy hill filming the waves while his two happy mutts wagged all over our legs. I had a brief talk with him about the power of the surf. "Aits moor salad than eat luks, mayt" (Translation: it's more solid than it looks, Mate). Not until I got home and glanced again at John Witzig's 1960s surfing photo book did I realize I was talking to David "Baddy" Treloar. "Baddy" was a big part of one of my favorite classic surf films, Morning of the Earth. He was also Angourie's enforcer of surf rules back in the day. Cool to see him anxiously watching the surf 45 years later, waiting like me for the right moment to paddle out.
When I finally paddled out this Sunday morning, conditions were perfect: 6-8 feet, winds offshore, tide low. However, it's now school holidays in both NSW and Queensland. Thus about 40 surfers
were out and at least five or six of these were current or former professionals, including Australia's most famous surfer, Nat Young! He's in his sixties now but he was still getting some of the best waves, while the rest of us shouted "Go Nat!" He paddled by and commented to me and a older local about how he'd "chickened out by the cliffs on that last one and just jumped off." I responded, "Sounds like me." His daughter was with him and she was surfing her longboard like a champ. Nat is world champion longboarder many times over and is most famous for jump-starting the shortboard revolution in the 1960s during an amazing session filmed at Honolua Bay, Maui in 1967.
I managed to grab three waves during my short session. Unfortunately, two of these were blatently stolen by drop-in artists. However, the third ride was fantastic. It was big, glassy, and powerful, threatening to barrel at any moment but always just holding off.
The surf continued to drop all day and the wind switched to northerly so I surfed the gorgeous back beach in Yuraygir National Park as the sun dropped behind the coastal hills.
I also spotted an echidna yesterday while walking to the point for that first session. The echidna is one of only two monotremes (egg laying mammala) and is unique to Australia. It looks a bit like a giant spiny urchin turned into a critter. What a difference it makes to spend real time in a place. We've now seen in the wild an emu, echidna, wallabies, kangaroos, kookaburas, Brahminy kites, sea eagles, magpies, sea eagles, plovers, lorikeets, partots, crows, ravens, and numerous butterflies. Alas, we did not find any goannas yet.
