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A few days before the swell was due to hit west oz, i was speaking to Jamie Mitchell. He was planning to head to Margaret River and try his luck paddling some bombs and i was super pumped to join him on his journey. But there was also another spot i’d been wanting to check out on this swell and from what i could work out, the conditions were looking quite favourable. So with return airfares to Perth being well over my budget, i decided to ring Jamie and let him know i couldn’t make it and go hunt something new. I’ve always tended to go on the mission into the unknown rather than head somewhere that’s well known. But with this comes the reality that its a lot more likely your going to get a skunking. Research and experience are the two major things you need to score a wave pumping. The third one is co-operation from mother nature. When the forecasts aren’t truly defined then you can only hope that she pulls through with the goods.

I’d been speaking to another friend, bodyboarder Ewan Donnachie. He rang me to see what i was planning for the swell and we started to talk ideas, but neither of us wanted to give too much away. A couple of minutes later we started pissing ourselves laughing as we realised we’d both been talking about the same wave. He was heading there with filmer Mike Jennings and photographer Luke Shadbolt. I was looking after Volcom kid Jack Scollard and good friend Sandy Ryan was frothing for the mission. Everything was coming together, except for the fact that we knew stuff all about this wave. We knew it was surfable and by looking at maps we had a vague idea on what winds and swell it needed. So our experience was nil and our research was scarce and due to the fact that the wind forecasts were light and variable, the chances of us scoring was quite slim. BUT THERE STILL WAS A CHANCE.

After a ten hour drive with 3 petrol stops, 2 coffees, 1 McDonalds stop, a flat tyre and no sleep, we finally arrived at our destination a couple of hours after sunrise. Everyone was absolutely drained, we looked like a bunch of doped out zombies, but we were on a mission and as much as we wanted to sleep, the day was far from over. After doing a brief tour around the local scenery, we thought we worked out a nice place to launch the skis, which later turned into a disaster. The shorebreak was too big so we bailed to a different spot. Fifty metres up the track my car got completely bogged, delaying us another hour. The swell looked huge, maybe 10-15ft, although the winds were glassy it was still quite junky. The wave broke 4km out to sea so the only way to check it was to get out there.

With both skis chock a block full of crap, prepared for anything, we slowly made our way out to the wave. We were all super excited on what awaited us and as we drove around the back of the wave we all screamed with joy as a huge pit unloaded and spewed its guts out the back of the wave. From side on we got the true indication of what was in store for us. The wave broke for about 500 metres, but it was far from perfect. Some sections would barrel, others were really fat. Some would be flat bottom, then a second later be full fluff burgers. It seemed too big and also too messy. There were closeouts and just looked like an absolute nightmare to surf. But we’d put in a massive effort to finally get there so we were all willing to give it a crack. Once in the water and sitting out in the lineup it became clear just how sectiony the wave actually was. Both Shaddy and Mike had a ski each to shoot off while the rest of us tried to paddle into a few. It was ridiculous trying to find the take off spot and all of us were getting fuck all waves. A few nice looking empties would slide through, which kept us keen to keep trying. Ewan ended up snagging a gem but got too deep in the pit, wiping out and busting his ear drum. Sandy, Jack and myself got a couple of average ones but none that hollowed out nicely.

An hour into the session a set came through and it seemed to be bending in on a really nice angle. It wasn’t big but it looked like it was going to throw a barrel. As i dropped into it i realised i was super deep so i started to race it and as it started to pit i tried to stand tall. I travelled momentarily through the pit then got exploded by the shockie. The wipeout was fine and after a couple of duck dives, i was almost out the back. Then sure enough the horizon goes dark and one of the biggest sets of the day lands ten feet in front of me. I tried to duck dive as there was no way i wanted that leash to snap, but due to hanging onto my board, i ended up getting rolled really far inside. After getting another 5 waves on the head, id been pushed all the way off the frontside of the reef where the whitewash faded out into deep water. I tried a few times to punch back through the lineup but didn’t stand a chance, i couldn’t even get close to the whitewater. So here i am 4km out to sea, half a km from where my mates are surfing and the current is taking me out to sea, no where in the direction of where i need to be. The lads thought that i would paddle out down the line somewhere, but after half an hour they realised this wasn’t the case and began to search for me. I started to feel really angry that they hadn’t come to pick me up straight away and just started yelling shit into the air (this was all my fault though, as we didn’t put safety plans into place). After an hour i finally saw a ski scouring the edge of the whitewash about 400m away. They were looking in the complete opposite direction. They didn’t realise that the current was drawing me away from the wave. Also the chop and turbulence was making it even more impossible. I waved and yelled for half hour before i lost sight of the ski. I was starting to lose my nerve and started to realise this situation could very easily turn into something really bad. I was going over scenarios in my head. The anger had turned to anguish. The constant paddling was starting to drain my energy, but i knew if i stopped i would get dragged straight out to sea. Another option was to try paddle to shore, but that was going in a different direction to where we launched the skis so if i didn’t make it to the beach then theres no way they would find me. There was a bombie about halfway from the boat ramp to the wave that we travelled past on our way out there, but if i paddled to it then id have to wait until they gave up searching for me and started heading for shore, and by that time id probably have no energy and that’s even if i made it that far. Then i started thinking of sharks. I tried my hardest to destroy those thoughts, but once it was in my mind it wouldn’t leave. Another hour went by and i could faintly hear the skis buzzing around. They were looking everywhere but in my direction. Thinking i would of got washed down to the inside of the reef, where in fact the opposite was happening, i was drifting further out to sea. Due to the whitewash spanning over a kilometre, the field they were searching was huge. I decided to use the last of my energy trying to paddle as close as i could to the edge of the breaking water as that seemed to be where they were focussing the search. Half hour later i was done, no energy left, still a couple of hundred metres from the whitewash i just sat up on my board and pondered on the situation at hand. I had no other choice but to just sit there and hope they would come across me very soon, before it was too late. Finally i seen the skis again, they were half a kilometre away but heading in my direction. As they got closer i thought they had seen me, and then they stopped. They hadn’t turned around, so i gathered they were scanning the ocean. I had a fluro orange future fins sticker on the tail of my board so i just started waving it in the air as high as i could. I didn’t have a clue whether they were even looking in the direction as i was pretty much under the water but i just kept waving it . After 5 or 10 minutes i was completely exhausted and just laid back on my board and shut my eyes, my thought process was completely blank. I woke to the sound of the jet ski getting closer. The relief when i saw the boys a few metres away seemed surreal. They were as shocked as i was but we were all so stoked that the drama was finally over. If it had of been an afternoon session with fading light, there was a good chance they wouldn’t have spotted me. Even though we didn’t score amazing waves, that night i just felt grateful to be alive. Moral to this little story, “SAFETY FIRST”. We didn’t have the buddy system put into place and that would of easily changed the whole situation.

The next day the swell was half the size. We went back out to the wave but the tide was high and the wind was howling up the face. Group decision was to pack up camp and head to where we knew more about the coastline and had more of a chance of scoring some goodness. That afternoon we stopped off at a slab that we heard some boogers surfed that morning and said it was pretty good. But by the time we got there the swell had backed off even more and it was only just capping on the reef. We had one more idea for the day, so back in the car for another 2 1/2 hour drive further round the coast till we got to a nice little coastal town which had a couple of fun little slab set ups. Low and behold, the wind was onshore. It seemed like everything was against us on this trip. We couldn’t believe what was happening, it was like we were always behind the eight ball and couldn’t quite get to where we wanted to be. I guess it was funny, we had put in such a big effort and were getting truly skunked for it. The forecast was calling for conditions to be perfect for a left slab the next day, so we scoured the town for accommodation. As our luck would have it the whole fucking town was booked out. There were 4 beds left at the backpackers but there were 6 of us. The old mate at the counter was very stubborn about not overloading the place , but we had no choice. So four of us hired a room while the other two chilled at the pub till the hostel doors closed then sneaked in. We found a couple of mattresses in the hallway behind a couch, so all the lads were sorted with beds. Things were starting to come together (well barely, but we had to rely on the positives). Four in the morning the alarms sounded and we gathered our brains and jumped back in the cars. Two hours later we were looking at 8ft heaving spitting left hand slabs. Smiles appeared on everyone’s faces. Finally after everything we had gone through, it was all a big lead up to this day. We all scored some amazing waves and the vibe with the crew was so good. Everyone was happy with how the trip ended up. Photographers got there shots, surfers got there barrels, but poor Ewan got his ear perforated. He was still as happy as us but.

If it wasn’t for that last session at the left, we would of been totally skunked. Sometimes it doesn’t matter what happens on the adventure. If your with a good crew, the good times keep rolling. Jokes still get told and smiles still appear on faces. 82 hrs and 2000km later i was finally back home in bed, sleep deprivation was about to become a thing of the past.