one hundred and eighty one days: Where are we?

You’re probably wondering where we have been for the last couple of days, so are we. Since leaving New Plymouth on Friday we have been driving in an area of New Zealand called the Taranaki Coast along a stretch of road called Surf Highway 45. While one would expect to find hordes of surfers along such a highway, the opposite is true. In fact, the entire area seems eerily deserted - less the hundreds of cows and sheep that litter the countryside.

In our quest for surf we have been relying heavily on our GPS, a New Zealand Surf Guide and the friendly advice of local shop keeps and bar tenders. At the end of almost every road and behind most cow pastures you are almost guaranteed to find a set up that on any day, given the right conditions, could produce an epic wave. Our issue is figuring where that spot is given the variables of the day.

Today we set out on the road early with hopes of finding our wave quickly and having enough time for a marathon surf. However, nothing on this trip ever seems to go as planned and only several minutes into our journey our progress was stalled when we ran into a bridge and found ourselves pacing round the remnants of our satellite dish – insert four letter word here. After a couple minutes spent surveying the damage and making duct tape alterations to our vehicle we hit the open road again with high hopes of finding a wave.

Today the wind was blowing very strong from the northwest and we decided that our best bet would be to venture south. Here we predicted that the bend of the coastline would be more favorable to the brisk winds and we journeyed down hoping to find the flawlessly peeling pointbreak waves that our guidebook promised.

Our down south hunt began in a small farming town called Opanake and our first stop was the town beach. The waves hear were mostly closing out and we decided to cruise past to another spot bookmarked in our guide called Sky Williams. When we finally located our wave, a cow pasture and a No Trespassing sign lay in our way. We decided that we had already had enough misfortune for the day and that it was better not to push our luck. We decided that our best option would be to go back to town to see if anyone could tell us an alternative route to our destination.

As it was Sunday, nothing was open in town with the exception of a smoky pub. I ventured inside the pub, guidebook in hand, and was met by a friendly bar tender. I began to explain to the bar tender our predicament and he told me that he didn’t think that it would be a problem to trespass but that just to be sure he would call a surfer friend to double check. After the his phone call, the bartender reported back to me with the fruits of his effort. He assured to me that we should have no problem crossing this land and also suggested that we check out another spot called Green Meadows, as his surfer friend predicted that Sky Williams would probably not be working today.

With some local knowledge in hand and our trespassing problem solved we finally felt that we were getting somewhere. At Green Meadows the trail got hotter as two other cars with empty board bags in the backseat were already there. Finally it seemed that our hunt was over, but after crossing the meadow that appropriately gave this spot its name we came to a stunning beach with no surfer life in sight and what could have been a right pointbreak minus a wave.

Feeling slightly defeated we moped back across the green meadow towards our camper van. On our way back we crossed paths with the driver of one of the cars with the empty board bag. He had his surfboard in hand and the same defeated look as us on his face. He explained that today just wasn’t the day for any of the points but that maybe we might have some luck at the beach in town on the full tide.

Pocketing his advice we drove back into town this time in search of food. We decide that our best and only option was to pay another visit to the pub. Apparently on a wave-less afternoon in Opanake this is the spot to be because inside the place was full with a hodgepodge of local folks and a full on pool tournament was in effect. We placed our lunch order at the bar and somewhere between the bar and making it to a table we got roped into signing up for the $2 buy in pool tournament. None of us are very good at pool but we figured why not.

After our meals, which were unbelievably delicious, it was time to make our New Zealand pool playing debuts. I was the first to the table and got thoroughly spanked by a pleasant Moari lady in my best of three series. Dex was next and he too followed suit getting handily beat. Mike rounded out our attempt and after going oh-for-none in his first match and making an unsuccessful rally in round two, he sealed our fate losing his second match and completing the town’s sweep of the Canadian boys.

Retired from pool we stayed and chatted for a while until my tide watch began to read full and in a last attempt to surf we headed for the town beach. As we rolled down the hill to the beach our spirits began to rise as we spotted the familiar black floating dots that represent wetsuit-clad surfers. We were so excited to see other surfer life and even though the waves we pretty crappy and mostly closing out we got in anyways.

The surf session in the end proved to be a success. Mike was able to work on getting the hang of his Pyzel shortboard and the inside white wash section was perfect for Dex to master his pop up skills. I pulled into probably 30 close out waves but got a few good turns so at the end I was pretty happy.

Tomorrow our hunt resumes. As I finish writing this it’s only nine o’clock but already everyone in either KOed or about to pass out. What a day.