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“Hey, what’s happening?”
“Conditions are right. Waves are gonna be top-notch for the next few days. Got a lot of people coming here.”
“Really?”
“Let me guess. You’ve just tipped up and found your way here by chance.” He gives me a look like I should know better.
“And?” I defend.
“Some of us travel for the waves. We don’t just chance it. Right now, it’s good. But we track the weather, move to the best swells, the best breaks, and chase the bigger waves.”
“This looks pretty big to me.”
“Oh, Baby Surfer. You haven’t seen nothin’ yet. Come on. Let’s get your feet wet.”
Finnan and I spend the next few days at the beach, in and out of the water with the rest of the surfers. My ability to ride a barrel isn’t the best, but for those few seconds when it all comes together, it’s the best feeling in the world. The spray douses you as the wave encloses, and you have to stay true to your ability, which I’m still working on. But it’s a ride I never want to get off—addictive as hell—and only spurs you on to do it again and again.
But bigger and better.
Finnan invites me back to his place just down the coast from the beach. It’s more of a hut on the beach, really, but it’s pretty awesome. A few of the other surfers join us, and we sit on the sand with a fire and a couple of bottles of beer.
“Do people really travel around the world to chase big waves?” I ask. Ever since Finnan mentioned it the other day, it’s taken root in my mind. Thanks to my magazine habit, the world surfing tour was something I was familiar with, although the waves never looked that big in print.
“Sure do, and if you like what you’ve had a taste of the last couple of days, you might want to pack a bag. We’re heading to Jaws next.” He smiles like he’s the devil.
“Jaws?”
“Oh, boy. You’ve got a lot to learn. Jaws is one of the biggest surf breaks in the world. You think this was big? Wait until you see what Jaws has to offer. Can you imagine surfing a fifty-foot wave?”
“Is he for real?” I look around at the other guys, and they all seem to be in on the joke.
“In the right conditions, sure.” He shrugs it off as if it’s nothing.
“That’s insane.” I mentally try and picture it but can’t.
“That’s the goal.”
“If you’re insane.” I take a long draw of my beer. I like Finnan, but what he’s talking about is the actual definition of craziness. Fifteen-foot waves are enough of a challenge for me.
“So, what do you say, Baby Surfer? Want to come and see what a proper wave looks like?”
“Leave Bali? I’ve just got here.”
“We’ve got time. It’s all in the tracking of the seasons and the weather. But if you want to surf waves, real waves, then stick with me.”
Finnan’s words are irresistible. They speak of everything I want, and he has the exact dream I have. So, we spend the next few weeks in Bali, enjoying the surf, soaking up the sun and living our best lives. It is the height of the best surf time in Bali, and we travel to the beaches around us to find the best surfing. Some days it’s crap. Others, we get lucky, and I soon realise that there is a lot of downtime and waiting about if you want to surf all the time.
The downtime gives me time to think of a certain beach that haunts my dreams, but Finnan keeps me busy, and I’m getting pretty good at riding waves.
In the evenings, we plan the next step on the journey, and soon, the ideas I had to reach Hawaii and California align with Finnan’s route and his big wave adventure.
My time at the hostel is easy to extend, and Timo gives me directions to an internet café to send some emails back home. So far, I haven’t checked to see if Zennor has written. Half of me put it off in case she hadn’t, but that was a pussy move. The bracelet never leaves my wrist, and she’s constantly in my dreams. Girls are in plentiful supply around here, but none of them catch my eye. Not the way Zennor did.
As I click on the password and connect the account, I scan the few lines and junk emails. There’s a couple from Mum and Dad, and I reply to them easily enough.
But nothing from who I want.
I can’t write to Zennor without her email, so I’m stuck.
