Sabine’s infection jumps over to me. The wind blows laminar side onshore at a perfect 15-20 knots for four days in a row. If I was a true German, I’d have to grumble about the seaweed in the water. But otherwise I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else. Everything is perfect, the sun is shining, the wind is blowing and Cuba is getting a good clearing every evening.
Every lunchtime we take the shuttle from Ali’s camp to the kite club. Sabine always has an uneasy stomach beforehand, with all the joyful anticipation mixed with a little anxiety. This mixture is hellishly energising. Some days I stand on the beach and wonder whether I can still master the wind. But the XBow simply flattens out every gust. (more…)
A serious infection
My diabolical plan is thwarted by a serious infection. Sabine touched one of those long things on the beach. Her mum had warned her about it just before she set off. But Sabine’s upbringing was anti-authoritarian. The virus jumped over to her in the same second of first contact. By evening number one, she already has very strange facial features.
She enjoys the little trainer kite. On day two, she goes straight to the 8m² bowkite with her instructor. You can see her grin 300 metres into the wind. It stays windy until the evening. On day three, the infection worsens, she learns about the power of the wind, practises the water start on land and running in the water. (more…)
Condor to Cabarete
Finally away from the German autumn! After an almost sleepless night, we take the train to Frankfurt. The train is on time, the plane is not. There are lots of my favourite people scurrying around at the airport: German holidaymakers. They expect only the best, know a lot, see little, like to complain and never think what they experience is the best of the best.
We go through all the checks (How much longer will it take?), off to the gate, out again (Why do we have to wait so long?), back in again (Can you give me the ticket?) and finally onto the Condor to Cabarete. For the first time in 20 flights, my knees don’t hit the seat in front of me. After 16 hours of travelling, the sun sets blood red over the Caribbean clouds. (more…)
Thunderstorm kiting on Lake Neusiedl
At lunchtime we drive to Lake Neusiedl. It takes just 45 minutes from the third district. The Austrian holidays have started today. The motorway is full. Masses of wind turbines are turning in the strong wind. The first glimpse of Lake Neusiedl makes me cheer: there must be 100 kiters out there. My first ride in two months, high time.
Lake Neusiedl is huge. But there is only one small legal launch site for kiting. And the nice people of Podersdorf charge a whopping €5.50 entrance fee. Not just for kiters, but also for Sabine, who came along as a spectator. The spot is a good 30 metres wide and about 200 metres long. There are more than 100 kites on the meadow. There are just as many on the water. (more…)
Easter in Jervis Bay
There was hardly any sleep last night. Being awake was too important. The whole day until I leave for Sydney in the evening, I’m so wiped out that there’s no sleep again. In the afternoon I drive to the Southern Cross Terminal, then take the night bus to Jervis Bay. No extra charge for the kiteboard, empty bus and gigantic seat pitches. The sun sets behind me.
I sleep most of the night. The transfer bus from Nowra to Huskisson in Jervis Bay in the morning is a real experience. Completely empty. Comatose steel guitar country tunes. 30km through perfect neighbourhoods. Sweating joggers, children playing, fathers mowing the lawn, neatly framed flowerbeds. (more…)
Blow up before the storm
I drive on, completely exhausted. Last night was just as dreadful. I’ve never beaten anyone up before. Last night I was practically on the verge of it all the time. Experiences: see last entry. I grab my things and set off. After a hundred kilometres I realise: ay. Forgot to eat. Probably a sign: eat less!
Another thing I hadn’t realised before: the clocks run differently in Queensland. One hour closer to Europe, although the same longitude as New South Wales. That’s why I arrive in Noosa at 12 o’clock. I actually wanted to carry on, but I have good reason to stop here for a few days: The wind forecast from Windguru.cz. (more…)
Kiteboarding & Jugglers In Christchurch
I work for a few days. Remote maintenance, support, skype, web design…even from bed. Life can be really hard :-) I take the bus to the beach near New Brighton. Buses in Christchurch are good: frequent, good network and cheap with a Metrocard (day: €2). Unfortunately, the wind is only good enough for a few bounces on the beach…yesterday there were 45 knots here and several thousand households without power…
The 10-day Buskers Festival is currently taking place in Christchurch. The whole city is full of buskers. It’s great fun and delays my every move. Mimes, jugglers, high-wire artists, clowns – there’s something to laugh and marvel at everywhere. I walk through the pedestrian zone with my kiteboard and am looked at as if I’m part of the festival. (more…)
Ripping the Milford Sound
Did I say something like “I was kiting in the most beautiful place in the world” the day before yesterday? Me Thor! But who could have imagined a day like today? Not me. But from the beginning:
Two lovely days in Te Anau. A short tour over 40 kilometres of gravel road to the Mavora Lakes. A nice Swiss woman accompanies me. I stop to chase an escaped sheep. I really wanted to shear a sheep in New Zealand. A Kiwi had already enquired: unfortunately it is forbidden for foreigners for disease control reasons. So today, privately and without a razor: plucking. When the sheep runs into an electric fence in panic, the fun stops for the actually very funny Swiss woman. I have to abandon the plan without success. (more…)
Kitesurfing on the Southern Lakes
Forget Queenstown for kiting! Completely overcrowded beach, almost never enough wind. One boat after the other. And the more remote boardwalks: thick trees every 10 metres and nice big rocks everywhere on a 5-metre-wide launch zone. I’m really pissed off that someone seriously gave me the “tip” to come kitesurfing here. Then I hire a car.
I drive 45 kilometres north along the adjacent Lake Wakatipu. There are more and more white chops on the lake. Wind!!! I’m coming!!! The end of the lake is reached in Glenorchy. Isengart used to be here, and the Routeburn Track still starts here. The only important thing for me: the wind is chopping at up to 30 knots. Very gusty, sometimes only 5, but it’s blowing. Kite on the gravel bank and off we go. (more…)
Burnout in Queenstown
Our last stop together is Queenstown, the capital of adrenalin. The world’s first bungee jump took place just a few kilometres away. Jetboating through narrow gorges, paragliding, aerobatics. Downhill mountain biking, speed luging, windsurfing, sailing, water skiing, climbing, canyoning, rafting. Choose the colour you want to paint a boring life an exciting colour!
There are twice as many tourists and three times as many bars for every 16,000 inhabitants. Queenstown is nevertheless nice and small, and still much quieter than Zell am See in the high season. The weather is absolutely unpredictable: Rain in the morning, sun in the afternoon, storms in the evening. Unfortunately, I didn’t find a single good kite spot for the same. Which devil had recommended Queenstown for kitesurfing? (more…)
Advents-Kite in Nelson
The crossing to the South Island is steep. Firstly, I was still three local beers short the night before, and secondly, the night was only four hours short again because of the concert. The sea was comparatively calm. Nevertheless, the ship rocked quite a bit and there were nice white bags hanging behind every seat. After 1.5 hours, I see the South Island for the first time.
The entrance is into a long fjord. The Queen Charlotte Track runs along to the right. A few fishermen’s houses cling to the steep slopes. The sun is finally back. We are told to change cars in Picton because of a crack in the windscreen. The local Indian has no idea what to do, who is who, etc. After 15 minutes I advise him to call his company’s hotline, then something will happen. (more…)
Kitesurfing in New Zealand: Raglan
We set off early. The girls move on to Coromandel, I take Cédric to Hamilton and let him out on the road to Rotorua. His heart was calling him there. My next destination is Raglan, the surfing and kitesurfing mecca of the North Island of New Zealand. I don’t arrive until the evening. Once again, we haven’t missed a single road on the way.
As so often before, the first hostel is beautiful, right on the beach. And they forbid me to use my laptop. Web design in New Zealand is much harder for me than on the last little island in Fiji. I’m on 180 again and I’m pissed off as I speed 8 kilometres along the coast. My anger is gone by the time I land. (more…)
From Whangarei to Waitangi
I’m lying flat in bed. My lungs are stinging. Bad cold. My laptop is behaving in solidarity. Apparently caught a nice virus from the diving school on Mana. I sip honey tea and worm my workbench. It’s raining and storming outside all day. I do a bit of work and pin the second couchsurfer and Canadian from Khandahar, Maurice.
I feel better the next day. Not the car at all. I’d left the lights on. Maurice helps with the resuscitation. His car is a Holden Astra, no joke. Viva la globalización! My destination for today is Pahia in the Bay of Islands. This is where today’s New Zealand began with the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840. Ancient cultural land. (more…)
Kitesurfing on Mana
After a week in the doldrums, the wind arrives unexpectedly on Mana. Mana is the Fijian word for magic. The wind is exactly the same: just right for my kite, not too much, not too little, a little gusty, but easy to ride even with a three-year-old kite. Within two days I can get out into the bay for a few hours.
The wind and waves are good for jumping. Joost, a nice Dutchman, takes some of the best pictures in eight years of kiting. Thank you very much! My jumps are getting higher and higher. I’m currently working on the third floor. No big tricks, just as high as possible. A sailing boat arrives, and the speed cat. I drive right through it, take off and all the tourists shout “Higher, more”. (more…)
Kitesurf final Fiji: 10km downwinder
I’m lying in the tent. A tropical thunderstorm is raging outside. The staff at the safari lodge are drinking kava today and singing to the ukelele next door. Nowhere else in the world have I heard people sing more beautifully. Several voices, one starts, the others respond, sometimes only women, sometimes only men. Always in several voices, and every song sounds like a lullaby.
I fall asleep and wake up a little later with a waterfall on my face. My tent is “slightly” leaking. I had to move because a whole ship full of new guests arrived two days ago. The big clash over the lack of prey on the island doesn’t materialise. The ship’s black sheep told us that there are even two couples on the ship holding hands. But they are extremists, he says. (more…)
Flying high in the Fiji sky
A big fire is burning on the beach. We have cleared half a square kilometre of the island’s primeval forest of undergrowth. A few fence posts may also have been involved. Coconuts exploding in the fire are nice jokes for existential pyromaniacs. From the laptop comes “Ring of Fire” and “Fire Water Burn”. The beer is cool and the stars shine brighter than anywhere else in the world.
The ferry to Vanua Levu on Thursday has also been cancelled. The last four days here have been wonderful. I’m winning more and more beer at poker. Nice new people are arriving. I’m super senior with 16 days. Travelling? I’m still travelling. In my head and on the water. (more…)
The first cut is the deepest
I’m sitting on the beach. My coral cuts are healing slowly but steadily. Yesterday I had quite a headache and thick feet. I’ll probably get round the blood poisoning anyway. The wind is blowing at up to 45 km/h, everyone is out windsurfing and kitesurfing. A 60-year-old is doing 10-metre jumps with his kite. I feel infinitely small.
On the beach I listen to Rod Stewart, The first cut is the deepest and Coral, the invisible invasion. Some divers have taken some really good pictures out on the reef and E6, which I’ll post today. They said that the sharks here were only very small and harmless. Even if they were, I won’t be swimming across the open sea to Dolphin Island. (more…)
Kitesurfen Part 3: Hit the reef, Jack!
With the help of the esteemed kitesurfing community on oase.com (thanks, guys!) and a few items from the Safari Lodge, I’m able to fix my broken line the next morning. Warren offers me the chance to try out a new 12 Eclipse kite. I don’t say no. Around 11 a.m. we head two kilometres out to sea for a downwinder.
I swim away from the boat, the kite is nice and stable on the edge. The hybrid kite goes up like Reinhold Messner on Extasy. Even at low speed and with the kite flying relatively high, I’m off to windward. 30 degrees upwind just makes me grin. Kitesurfing has come a long way in four years. (more…)
Kitesurfing in Fiji gone bad
I don’t even need the alarm clock to wake up in time for the six o’clock tide. The wind is already blowing, but not enough for kitesurfing yet. Another three hours’ sleep, then it’s back to kitesurfing in Fiji. At ten o’clock we take the boat out again to the safe kitesurfing spot at the Sandbar, 2 kilometres from Nananu-i-Ra.
The wind was already strong on Nananu-i-Ra, and at Sandbar the wind is blowing at 30-40kmh. Strong gusts make kitesurfing even more difficult. An absolute killer for my 12 nitro with 30% depower. At least I know that before I go out kitesurfing. It’s always a bad omen when you can barely keep contact with the ground on land. (more…)
Kiteboarding in Fiji
I’ve been waiting a long time for this: kiteboarding in Fiji. The wind finally arrives. It’s been building up all morning. I knew it would be good because my heart had been pounding all morning. After 5 weeks without kiteboarding in Fiji, we finally get going today. The clouds are gone, the wind is there.
After lunch, we take the boat out to a sandbank off Ellington Wharf. At low tide, there’s no kiteboarding on Nananu-i-Ra either: like everywhere else on Fiji, the sharp coral is too close to the surface. The wind blows on the sandbank, my wind, exactly my strength. (more…)
Constant rain and no wind
Everyone has been waiting increasingly desperately for wind for three days. It keeps raining cats and dogs. We’re not killing time, but black and white striped mosquitoes that leave wonderfully infectious pimple-like giant bumps if you’re too slow. Zack. Two more. 107 today.
We watch too many DVDs, albeit good ones, from the Safari Lodge’s extensive collection. My imported beer supply is drastically depleted, and no cigarette helps against the hordes of mosquitoes. We drink kava, eat, chat and wait for the wind. Reading: The Kite Runner. (more…)
Kitesurfing in Hawaii at last
Another windless day passes. I’m working on a thank-you poster for all my hosts. The house and me, alone. I head to the beach again in the evening. For free, as expected. At a good Mexican restaurant, I treat myself to a club, firm and liquid. Back home again. My surfing in Hawaii has so far only taken place on the Internet. Desolate kite lulls me into a restless sleep.
The next morning I am woken by the unfamiliar sound of moving leaves. Only briefly, then it’s over. I fall asleep again. Shortly before midday it’s clear: there’s finally wind today. Not much, just enough. Once more than the forecast, so far it’s always been 5 miles less in Kailua. My last day in Hawaii. Kitesurfing at last. (more…)
Waiting for wind in Windward Oahu
My new home is just 2 kilometres from a large army base. The huge Galaxy transport planes come in every five minutes. They are flanked by small security Cessnas or Chinook helicopters. That’s what I call fear in your own country. You can’t blame the soldiers. It wouldn’t be the first time here that a president has had 2,000 soldiers barbecued for a reason for war.
Despite the proximity to the base, it’s wonderfully quiet here. But compared to Waikiki, even a jackhammer is quiet. I check the wind on the other side of the bay on the internet and after 11 weeks of almost no kitesurfing, I finally head to the Mecca of kitesurfing on Oahu, Kailua. (more…)
Grand Canyon & Lake Powell
I thought the owner of the hostel in Flagstaff was an Irish alcoholic. I mean an Irishman. When we said goodbye, he said a few words in German. Excuse me? I see. A native of northern Bavaria from Hof. The world is shrinking again. I have to move on to make it bigger.
Heading north across the Arizona steppe. With the top down, I’m amused by Boss Hoss, Jesus built my hotrod. The side canyons of the big one look much better. Crazy colours and much better light today. Constant police checks annoy me. Probably 10 times more often than in Germany. (more…)
Flying water on Sherman Island
Scott wakes me up around 11 a.m. Kiting? Sure. Emergency restoration, quick breakfast and off to the delta behind San Francisco Bay. Our destination is Sherman Island, a very special kind of choppy shallow water spot. I’m already wide-eyed on the journey. The fog clears and the necessary temperature difference is created. The wind is getting stronger and stronger. We arrive around one o’clock after an hour’s drive. Lots of kiters between the rushes. The “real” pros have – no joke – wind turbines on their campers to generate electricity. Should be worth it here. We head to the beach. (more…)
The Author
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.