Rather nervously we made our way to Teahupoo. Along the road every possible surf spot was out of control. Huge plumes of spray blowing off the waves and detonations up to 30' blow out the back of breaking sets.
The carpark is full at 'Chopes' and I'm amazed to see a channel full of boats and spectators! No way can they hold the contest and the police have already warned people that the high commissioner has declared the water off limits with potential of a fine. As if that is going to deter the worlds best big wave tow specialists in front of a world tour crowd!
We scam a lift in a water taxi $20 for 30 min but a friend Norman says we can join his boat after that. Once out the swell is so thick and too west. I can't believe the numbers of boats, skis, boards etc. There's mums, kids, girlfriends, grandparents, et.c like it was a Saturday venture to the park! The worlds heaviest wave is having one of it's heaviest days and everyone is oohing and ahhing from a channel so close the spit descends over them after each set.
With the west swell it's basically catapulting into a closeout. I see only 6 waves cleanly exited in 5 hours. The rest are detonated beyond imaginable. Raimano has already gone to hospital that morning after one wave. Then a Brazza face plants the reef, another breaks an ankle, another gets stitches. Most tow partners are sporting bandages and blood.
We motor back exhausted from the adrenalin of watching the adrenalin. A beautiful orange sunset across the glassy lagoon is deceptively calm until you see the black silhouette of the whitewash (blackwash?).
Camping out in Norman's backyard, Gordy and I eat salad baguette rolls. It feels like we're groms on a surf camp sleeping on a board bag - but my back doesn't cope the way it used to.
Praying for the next day as we hold the first national meeting of key interested people.
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