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| 6 a.m. on top of the hill overlooking the rocks of Red Bluff the
roaring turbo diesel of the ute made me jump out of bed and run to the door.
“What’s up?” “Going surfing, the swell’s in.” Still half
asleep I put the kettle on, threw the toast in, and was about to taste the Yackandandah
jam, when the 4 wheel drive was back. “The swell’s no good, we take the jet ski.
Put on your shorts and rashies, we’re going, now, before the wind sets in.” Not
washed, hair in a mess, without having had breakfast, I grabbed my camera and put my sun
cream on while going downhill to the little harbour of Kalbarri. Getting the 215 hp SeaDoo with “incredible acceleration and race bred handling” off the trailer was no problem for the experienced rider used to towing oil rigs up north. We put on our safety vests. “So, you’re not going to chicken out then?” “No way.” Riding on flat water in the harbor was smooth and comfortable, but as soon as we hit the first small waves outside the protected area, the SeaDoo started bumping up and down. However, while the passenger was still going down, the rider was already moving up the next wave. To avoid a crash I therefore had to move to the back end of the seat and hold on tight to the straps of the rider’s vest for support. We turned south at Chainman’s Rock, passed the young surfers at Jacques Point, and admired Red Bluff, a spectacular formation of red rock looking solid and serene in the early morning light. The further we went the more challenging the waves became until we reached ‘the spot’: a well shaped left with a bit of a push, a really smackable 3m wave. The driver slowed down, watching the waves coming in. As a second generation surfer, with a father who had been surfing well into his seventies, he knew what to look out for. After all, he and his friend, known as the Hawk and the Captain, were the first to go surfing in Kalbarri back in the 1970s. To me, all the waves looked more or less alike, simply overpowering. Finally there was 'a good one' and by accelerating gently we caught it: up the wave, cut back, down the wave, bottom turn, cut back, bottom turn. The breaking wave behind us was getting closer, I could hear it, I could feel it, but I kept looking ahead, concentrating on my balance, for a wipe out at this point meant being washed right into a solid wall of rock. We got off the wave just before the tube enclosed us, returned to the starting point and off we were again riding the waves. By then my adrenalin level had reached a steady high and I had started to enjoy the ride when all of the sudden there were three then five and then eight fins in the water: some dolphins had come to play.
I had envisioned riding the waves with dolphins at my side so often in my dreams that now, as it was really happening, I could hardly believe it was true. Getting the camera out of the tank, out of the plastic bag and in focus, all the while moving swiftly along with the dolphins, seemed to take ages, but the dolphins stayed and I finally got my shots. Turning around to the other side of the jet ski, I caught a glimpse of a solitary pointed fin disappearing in the water right next to me: “A shark! One more shot!” “No, we're going, now!” The wind had set in making the ride back a bit rough and uncomfortable, as the waves were choppy. But the final test was back on flat water, when we did 115km/h on the SeaDoo, dressed only in shorts and rashies, which seemed to be the West Oz version of speed dating. Breakfast was at 9am. Outing yourself as a windsurfer in Kalbarri was basically met by either amazement (“well, have fun”) or pity (“oh”), and this reaction is indeed understandable. You can go windsurfing on flat water in the mouth of the Murchison River, right next to the harbor of Kalbarri, but the south easterly winds are blocked by the houses and trees along the river bank, resulting in most frustrating gusts. There is, however, an inconspicuous little spot about 500m up north, right around the river bend, where the wind comes in more steadily. Here I rigged up, undisturbed, watched over only by a flock of pelicans. As it turned out, the pelicans had chosen the less windy side for their resting place, so I could practice speed gybes after going out to the muddy river bank 300m away and then carefully work my way up closer to the pelicans, gybing in front of them as noiselessly as possible. They did not mind at all, in fact, they seemed quite bored by my performance. Relaxing in the Gorges Cafe opposite this tranquil place after a day of gybing, I could not believe my eyes when I read an article about the dolphin drive hunts in Japan. Migrating pods of dolphins and other small whales are driven into caves and nets by banging metal rods into the water, creating an acoustic barrier. Then the dolphins are butchered one by one, by fishermen. Repeated requests by the International Whaling commission and numerous other scientific and conservation organizations to end the inhumane practice have been ignored by the Government of Japan, which claims that these animals compete with the fishermen and slaughtering them is a kind of pest control. To bring an end to the drive hunting, marine scientists, the World Association of Zoos and Aquariums, the Association of Zoos and Aquariums and other non-governmental organizations have set up an on-line petition. For further information and to sign the petition, please see The Petition or The Ocean Project (click on to “End Dolphin Slaughter in Japan”). A Happy New Year to you all! |
text & photos: Eva Marie Drape-Huelsemann © windgirls 2007 |
