could head north to a remote left. “Count me
in” - so by 8am we were fanging it through
the assorted villages.
Large volumes of swell swung into the bay
and threw their contents on the shallow sandy
beach. A few tall coconut trees swayed in the
breeze but this southern corner was fairly
protected from the harsher winds further
north up the beach. The wind was in the
process of swinging around so it was totally
offshore and we parked our bikes, then ran
down to the shore to get a better look at
Parbs having a fair go at hacking this section
to pieces // Photo Matthew Ellks
the left peeling way outside over the corallined point. It looked insane! Empty barrels
spat their hollow contents like a teenager
spewing after a night on the drink and one
too many kebabs. Guru started his briefing
and I walked away towards the action to get a
closer look. As I turned around a small corner
there was a shack with a bench in front of it
under a large tree where a lone Frenchman
was sitting watching the waves. I ask my
new dishevelled mate the best way to paddle
out and he informed me to paddle straight
through the keyhole just to the right of us. His