Tangaroa's Gold
photos courtesy of Sean Davey
by Sean Davey
posted 2006-08-31

the south pacific's new big left

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Grab a map. Now find Tahiti. Somewhere within a thumbnail of the world's most photographed wave lies the world's least photographed wave. This one. I gathered up a crew of Hawaiian Pipe chargers and two of Australia's most talented juniors and sent them to a place the tourist brochure, if there was one, would describe as, "unbridled adventure". Truth be known, had things been Track's way, there would have been all Aussies along, eh. true, but.....The pro surfer hanging over the gunwale vomiting yellow bile out his pie-hole for the 15th straight hour would, and did, describe it as, "The worst, worst thing thing I have ever done in my life!"

The flight here was rough as guts. The lady next to me is furiously fanning herself with the emergency card from the seat pocket in front of her as a severe case of nausea sets in. In the other hand is a readily prepared barf bag. She has that "I'm trying to hold it together" look on her face, it won't be long now...

Meanwhile, the captain of the plane is on the microphone every other minute, stressing to the passengers how dangerous the situation is and telling everyone to get back in their seats and buckle up if they haven't already done so. The serious tone in his voice only makes everyone that much more nervous about the situation. I'm thinking to myself, "oh well, this is it, then. Travelled all this way, only to drop out of the sky within spitting distance of our destination." I snap from my reverie and notice a situation that makes my balls shrink: the wings of our plane are wobbling like floppy cocks in a stiff wind, and it seems only a matter of time before one of them is going to snap off sending us to a watery conclusion.

All kinds of thoughts waft through your mind in situations like this. You wonder about stuff left unsaid, things left undone, friends and family - that kinky European threesome you turned down in Amsterdam... "How will the story be reported in the surf media?" you idly imagine. So many thoughts, and yet strangely, I was pretty much at peace with it all - resigned easily to whatever fate awaited us.

We had been in transit now for 20 hours-plus, having to red-eye it out of Honolulu to NZ, only to have our connecting Air New Zealand flight cancelled, leaving us in a holding pattern at Auckland airport for nine hours.

Not too long after and it felt good to finally land and clear the tarmac at our destination in a quiet corner of the South Pacific. Customs was a pleasant affair. The guy said G'day, mate, smiled and wished me a happy stay. Unlike his not far away French coleagues, he actually looked like he enjoyed his job. Such a pleasant alternative to the usual accusing stares (and odd gloved hand) that greet the weary traveller at the end of their long journey.

We crossed the date line twice on this journey, so it's not unreasonable to presume that people do get confused and miss their flights. Funny thing is that our host was the confused one and was happily enjoying a barbecue with his mates when we called to enquire when we would be picked up. He was under the impression that we'd be arriving the following night. An hour later and we have it all sorted and are ready for some much-needed shut-eye... Tomorrow, we embark on a boat ride, headed to no place in particular, with no motive other than to find new waves.

I only really have one major fear with the ocean as a rule, and that's seasickness. Once it gets hold of you there's not a hell of a lot that you can do, especially when you've got two days sail ahead. I thought I had the upper hand this time though. I'd bought this newfangled device called a "relief band" - a watch-style thing that sat on the underside of your wrist; this device is supposed to offset the effects of seasickness by sending electric impulses down your hand and somehow equalising the effects of nausea.

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