Beyond the Break

CHAPTER 10KANGAROO AND CANARY ISLANDS: Your beliefs about yourself are BS

I stood at the top of a cliff on Kangaroo Island, South Australia, and looked down at a writhing fur seal colony. Grey, slug-like bodies lounged on rust- and black-coloured granite slabs above the pounding surf of the Southern Ocean, occasionally diving headfirst into the fluid abyss.

‘Surf looks good,’ I said to my buddies, as though that outweighed the potential for death.

We'd just endured a tiring hour-long hike along a barely there bush trail to this remote location, so there was no way I was leaving without at least attempting a surf — shark-infested waters or not.

‘They didn't say we'd be surfing beside a seal colony.’ My mate sounded sceptical but didn't voice what we were all thinking. Seals were a shark's favourite snack, and we would be floating in the same water. I rolled my tongue around a suddenly dry mouth.

Each of us not wanting to be the first one to shy away from danger, we made the climb down the cliff face to the slippery rocks below. I picked a path to the edge of the rock ledge, where the pitted surface gave the soles of the feet a little pinch. Then I spent a few minutes learning the rhythm of the waves. When I was ready (as I'd ever be), I waited for the next wave to approach. Three quick breaths out and I launched myself and board into the air, over the wave's crest, landing flat on the board and paddling like hell to get clear of the waves smashing against the rocks.

Sitting ...