Boracay Kite Killers

The night was planned as a cosy New Year’s Eve pre-giggle with friends, but got pretty out of hand. A few bars and a disco later, I’m home by three. I have to treat a homepage emergency and get a quick six hours’ sleep. I’m miserable in the morning. No headache, but everything feels fuzzy. Thank you, Senor Tanduhay and Miss Kalamansi. My legs are red on the outside and burning on the inside. Complete full-body muscle soreness.

I’ve lit my candle at at least three ends. Nice and bright, but just too much. I work in bed and don’t go to Kite Beach until the afternoon. At a school, a Bavarian flag rattles in a crisp 18-28 knot wind. The food at Hagabat is better and cheaper, the boss is from Traunstein and there are no Russian kite ravos here either.

There are only about 50 kiters out today. They are riding kites between 5 and 10 square metres. I decide in favour of the nine, set up and go out. The motivation to get upwind straight away is quite high in today’s conditions: strong winds fully onshore, three metres of beach width thanks to the tide, palm trees and buildings ten metres high directly behind it. I’m a bit too cautious when I tie off, have to turn a bit until the power is right and then cross out.

At the peak of the day, quite big waves are sweeping over the reef into the bay. I play in the waves with a few other kiters. But it’s not my thing today. I’m incredibly exhausted, my arms are so heavy that I can hardly power up. After just under an hour, they just don’t want to do it anymore, they’re shaking like crazy and my calves are cramping. I go outside.

Landing is difficult at three metres. I sit down and look out. A real freak flies an eleven switchblade and performs the most brutal kiteloops with handle passes. Never seen it live before. A lot of things I’ll never be able to do. I’m a real lousy rider, but I’ve only injured myself once in 12 years. There are a lot of bad crashes today. Kites fly into each other, invert, crash into the waves, throw the riders far into the air. High season for kite doctors.

An Italian comes into the landing zone at high speed. Like several kiters before him, he slams his kite into a palm tree. Actually, he does the right thing. As the kite inverts around the palm tree, he triggers the safety to reduce the pressure on the tube. But somehow the kite breaks free and the kiter pulls the now apparently fully released bar ten metres up into the crown of the next palm tree. There it gets caught.

The kite loops a few dozen times, ten metres behind the second palm tree at the same height. Another Italian climbs over balconies and ballustrades up to the second floor of a resort and grabs the looping kite. Real heroic action. The lads even get the bar out of the high palm tree after a bit of tugging. I crawl home to bed, I really need to get some sleep for tonight. Wish you all a happy new year 2012!