Yep, I could live here someday...

A few Sundays ago, with time to spare and the day to myself, my only objective was to make the three-hour coastal drive back up to Hualien, and hopefully catch some waves along the way. Little did I know that many factors would combine to deliver the best and heaviest day of surfing I’ve ever experienced.

I borrowed a beaten up 9 foot longboard with no leash from the nice folks in Taitung that Ruth is staying with, and it fit with an inch to spare into the car Fish lent me. I went to a hardware store, and for under $3, I bought some materials to fashion a leash. With no idea of where to go, and no information about current swell reports or tide heights, I headed north, periodically popping over on little paths to check the waves.

For the first half hour, all the paths led to duds – flat spots, dead ends, and private residences guarded by mean looking dogs. Finally, I found one with a few cars, and an American scanning the horizon for waves. His name was J.B. and was originally from Virginia; now living in Taiwan. At the time I didn’t know how lucky I was to have met him. I was just glad to find a guy to surf with - it’s safer that way.

We decided the waves looked good enough to get in, but before doing so, we noticed a couple guys sitting on a fallen log, gazing over the water. They were there because a well known local surfer named Bob had died while surfing there the previous day, possibly from a heart attack, but no one knew for sure. Bob was a 62-year-old Australian who was very fit and surfed every day.  J.B. knew him well, and said that he had learned a lot from him. We were a definitely spooked to get in the water, but did so anyway after taking note of a few big rocks to steer clear of. The waves, 6-8 ft, were some of the biggest I’ve ever paddled into. In California, waves rarely get that big, so I started out with caution. We caught a few, but agreed that though they had size, they were a bit mushy, lacking in power and shape, so we decided to try some other spots he knew.

I followed J.B. in my car, and he took me to some fantastic looking spots that would have taken me all day to find, since we bypassed all the duds. He kept saying “no” to places that looked like heaven to me, so I made note of their exact locations in my head as we left each one. Since I had gotten an early start, it was still morning when we finally stopped, and it’s where we would stay until nightfall. 

On a meadow above the beach sat a single house that J.B.’s friends rented. They were sleeping when we arrived, but the four of them came out shortly after. They were a crew of very dark Taiwanese guys, one kid, and a stray dog that hung around. I showed them my silly looking board and they had a good laugh. I think the fact that I went through the trouble to borrow a board and make a leash earned me some respect. The obvious leader was a tough looking guy named Xiao Hei (a nickname meaning “little black”) and he was very welcoming, giving me water and lending me a real leash. All they talked about or cared about was surfing, and it was interesting to hear all the terms in Mandarin. They even had a band and sung about surfing. We checked the waves from the lawn, slapped on some sunscreen, and went.

The spot was at a river mouth, at the foot of some spectacular mountains, high and lush. The waves were clean, peaking A-frames, two feet overhead. Winds were light and offshore, and the water green and warm. There were no crowds, plenty of sunshine, like something out of a magazine. Basically, conditions were perfect, something every surfer dreams of, but practically never finds in the US.

Out on the water, the guys communicated mostly through hoots of encouragement. There was some coaching as well - everybody took it quite seriously. We surfed for a good three hours, and when we came in, I was exhausted and totally stoked. My Top 10 All-Time Best Waves List had been completely rewritten, as well as my Top 25 All-Time Worst Wipe-outs List. It was the best and most fun session I’ve had in the 5 years since starting. As much as I’ve explored and loved California’s coastline, it doesn’t hold a candle to Taiwan’s when it comes to surfing. I was ready to go, and started to return my borrowed leash, when Xiao Hei looked at me funny and said “You’re not surfing later?”

I couldn’t believe my ears. These guys had surfed early in the morning already before their nap, and were planning to go a third time. Nobody usually can outlast me out on the water. So I ate some eggs, drank some Super Supau (Taiwan’s version of Gatorade), and closed my eyes for a bit. Then we went out again and didn’t come in until dark, three hours later.

As I drove the dark winding roads back to Hualien, I thought about how I said “no” when they asked if I was coming back the next day. Part of me wanted to shirk my responsibilities, knowing I could have easily. It was hard to not be greedy. But I came here to work hard and play hard, and I had more than accomplished the latter already. Besides, I didn’t know if my body could take two consecutive days of that. I ended up sleeping like the dead that night, and woke up hungry ten hours later to find a bump on my head, many small cuts and bruises, and feeling sore all over. So worth it.