The Epic Swell
Posted on February 07, 2007 @ 7:25 AM
Words and photos by Gary Simpson
A surfer can travel for a whole lifetime in
search of great waves yet never really catch
a swell that could be categorized as epic on
a grand scale. Here’s one man’s story of how
a much anticipated trip to Fiji led not only to
an excess of dream surf for him and his
friends, but also a rare encounter with the
mighty Pacific at an absolute peak of majesty,
a surfer capable of rising to it, and an industry
reality that potentially diminishes us all.
As I looked over the models and charts before departure I felt that
I could be about to experience something way beyond what I had
ever seen on my previous surf trips around the world. What showed
was a HUGE, blaring, red low-pressure system swinging east off the
Antarctic ice cap, spinning its wave energy in the direction of just
where I was headed, Fiji.
With my preliminary charts in hand, I shared the buzz with
others as we met at the airport for a red-eye flight to Nandi on
the island of Viti Levu. Some of us had been together on my last
trip to Namotu Island, several years back, and there was a whole
contingent of new surfers, most hailing from my hometown of
Santa Barbara.
Following what seemed like an easy flight thanks to the
obligatory prescription sleeping pills passed out at the airport, we
disembarked just as Saturday was beginning to stir with the sounds
and smells of the tropics. We arrived at the boat launch at 10am sharp for a 20-minute crossing to Namotu in absolutely perfect
conditions. Many eyes scanned for signs of the impending swell, but
it wasn’t until we neared our little piece of heaven, with Tavarua just
a scant mile beyond, that we could see signs of whitewater.
From the time our board bags and luggage were unloaded,
many of us were leashed, lotioned, waxed up and ready to hit the
water in a half hour. We found fun, clean 3-5ft lefts awaiting us at
the reef pass called Namotu Lefts, and 4-6ft clean and fast rights at
Wilkes. All the while, lurking in the back recesses of our minds, was
the coming swell.
But the next day we awoke to the same clean conditions. The
Surfl ine printout was giving an outer reefs forecast of 35+ft in
two days’ time. So we surfed and surfed some more, in perfect
4-8ft waves, some of us heading to the outermost part of the
reef opposite Cloudbreak, five or six miles away, to sample what Desperations had to offer. This kept most of us enthralled, with the
exception of Bob from San Diego who tore some knee ligaments
way too early in his trip. He kept with us throughout, though,
and was the consummate good sport despite what we were all to
experience wave-wise over the next few days.
On Monday we awoke to a marked increase in wave height.
Bleary eyes in the pre-dawn light were judging the sets to be
in the 10ft range, which we soon found out was a guess on the
conservative side. Anyway, the surf was beginning to mack in my
estimation. But it was fun and manageable for the generally older
contingent of guests, depending on where one picked up the
wave at Lefts. Needless to say, we were all pretty drained by the
time the evening’s festivities kicked in, and we knew the swell had
only just begun.
Overnight it thundered on the reef hundreds of yards out and
was confi rmed as being “BIG” at first light. Many of us headed to
Namotu’s smallest break, Swimming Pools, a spot that never broke last time I was there, despite the other spots checking in at 8-10ft.
Apparently, it takes a significant swell for this oddity of a wave-withno-
back to rear up off the reef, and this time it provided us with
some truly exhilarating righthanders.
By mid morning we were really all beginning to feel tapped,
and the notion of a short boat ride over to Cloudbreak to see up
close the huge, curling walls that were visible from at least three
miles away, sounded really irresistible. You see, Namotu people
aren’t allowed to surf over at Tavarua, just as Tavaruan folk can’t surf
Namotu Lefts and Swimming Pools.
We pulled up to just one Tavarua boat idling in the channel,
with one ski lurking for a set way up the reef. Within moments
we became aware that the rider was Shane Dorian and he picked
himself an absolute gem of a wave. Afterwards, he went back out
and prowled for what seemed an eternity, letting waves go by that
had us all spellbound. Then it became apparent as he was
guided into a thick, wide-swinging wall, he’d found the
wave he’d been looking for. As I scanned his progress
through the viewfinder of my rapid fi ring Nikon SLR,
I was literally lost for words, hoots or hollers, and
as I recall all was still around me, too. Everyone was
absolutely mesmerized, speechless.
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