Pulling away from the temple in the middle of the night, with nothing but darkness and a direction ahead of us. A posse of fossil fueled fangers made a B-line for the east coast, with only the port acting as a well earned break in the tarmac. The swell rocked our weathered ferry as it chugged across some of the strongest currents in the world. Waking relief coming from the protected waters of our destination's harbor as our over night crossing came to an end. We had planned for a first light arrival, but the tides were with us and it landed our group on dry land with a couple hours until the sun broke across the equator.
Setting off into the approaching dawn, our petulant exhaust notes burbled, burped and bounced off hill sides and forest trees, leaving an audible bread crumb trail for those in the rear of the pack to pick up on. We climbed and cajoled our way over the formidable landscape, eventually pulling up at our dusty destination, the sound of crashing waves called to the surfing trio like a siren to a sailor, prompting a quick unpack of boards and a swift entry into the water. A day of shoreline paddling and gliding proceeded.
The swell and wind moved south together, inspiring conditions that were not quite working in our favor. The size was definitely there, which is quite unusual for mid October. As the waves heights continued to rise, the boys stayed out, only returning to land for nourishment and to retrieve lost boards… The consequence of forgoing a leg rope.
As the days last light slipped away so did we, back the way we came but this time we had a new destination in our sights.