The morning after is terrible, breakfast unthinkable. A wind-seeking Italian from yesterday reports good wind. We drive another 120 kilometres to Sotavento and are among the first on the water at midday. The next six hours are a dream. In an initial 15 knots of sideshore, we take quite large kites and fight our way through the battlefield of popping kite students.
Everything is perfect. Dominik’s first ocean kiting. High jumps, laminar wind, 200 metre wide beach, space until you drop. Almost perfect. At some point Dominik feels sick because of the last night shift. Or because of the McBreakfast. In any case, he gives the tip that it’s better not to throw up upwind of your own kite. Downwind would be much more appropriate.
Sotavento rightly deserves its reputation as a kite mecca. Top wind, bar with palm trees, high sand dunes. No stupid lava rocks, just sand. At high tide and during certain phases of the moon, there’s even a shallow water speed slope in the form of a lagoon on the beach. We make do with the small waves on the open ocean.
I mess up a few jumps big time. With Dominik’s 14er Evo, I jump too close to the coast, the kite takes me further up than expected and, above all, too far towards land. I land hard on my back in 10cm deep water. Dominik also makes a few decent drops. But nothing stops us today, we’ve waited too long.
In the evening, the wind picks up before the expected storm tomorrow. We switch to 10 and 12 and the rescue jetski has already gone to sleep. All the students have left. After almost six hours, we are the last kiters on the water as the sun sets. Perfect day. I can barely lift my arms above the keyboard.
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.