Rowan Aish
Portugal
Tuesday 9 June 2009
The urban Portugal of postcards is a sea of double storied, white washed buildings, with each home roughly sharing the same square, boxlike design. But think not squares of geometry but rather contemporary art, as if a young prince who favored crowns over pencils was the architect. The low wooden doors sway gently from the walls with a regular peculiarity that suggests each home was built using the same broken level. The cobbled streets make less sense still, winding narrowly and at abstract angles. I’m reminded of water negotiating its path to the sea. Finally, rising intermittently from the picture are monumental churches, castles and windmills. Relics of a glorified age.
The Lisbon I see now seems to me caught somewhere between the postcard image above and the mismatched, tasteless sprawl of frantic modern development. The new high-rises, though unfinished, seem already to be decaying, as does the cracked tarmac. Despite this the distinctive character of postcard Portugal still holds residence and now, as if to combat the rising buildings now drowning the churches and windmills, there’s a new breed of dominant architecture. Rising at perfectly geometrical right angles from the mess come the towering phenomenon of the Portuguese mega malls.
Obviously these malls made quite the impression on me and the guys. I can report with confidence that at least half of every day in Portugal was spent roaming the many exotic clothing stores and feasting from the endless supply of tasty and affordable fast food restaurants.
The day came to compete in the 6* Estoril Quicksilver Pro, and although it cut seriously into our Mall time, Ricardo, Nick and Myself managed to drag ourselves to the beach for the early morning check-in.
As in the last event the team was fortunate to be seeded straight into the Round of 96. This meant a little bit of money and half decent points were guaranteed, the flip side is that unless you put on a good show you came a long way for a depressing 25 minutes.
Nick and I were the first of the Kiwis to have a go, coming up against a well-known Aussie and a faceless Brazilian. A quick posting of two excellent scores by the Aussie shattered our hopes of team domination, so once again I found myself fighting, for points and for money, the one guy who I really cared about in this contest.
As it panned out my wave selection wasn’t the best, but I surfed an O.K. heat and was looking good until the last 10. Then Nick snuck the bomb! Putting up two big (painful to watch) turns and being rewarded with 8points. I spent the last part of the heat scrambling madly from one side of the contest area to the other desperately looking for a seven, but for Nick the fire was burning and I was no match the man trained in the hassling arts by Mount Manganui’s finest. Consequently I dipped at third while Nick progressed to stand another day.
Ricardo had the worst luck, arguably drawing the hardest heat of the round. with Brazilian wonder kid Alejo Muniz (eventual winner of the event), as well as CT surfer Miky Picon. Ricardo started strong, posting an 8point ride with some excellent surfing in the early minutes, but cracks appeared in Ricks normally steely competitive demeanor, and he spent the next 20 min scrambling for a growing score.
It was all up to Nick to keep the dream alive and do be honest, I thought this was his event. The small punchy waves had the feel of a certain island off Mount Manganui, (although not nearly as good – as Nick made very clear). In the pre-heat free surfs I decided whitey showed as much flare as anyone but more importantly… the man deserves a result!
Unfortunately though when it came time to perform there was something missing in the Mounties weaves and rotations. That’s not to say he didn’t put up a good fight, In the last seconds he had us all on our feet with too good fin busts that could have been the score. But it was too little too late and Nick joined the rest of us…. In the mall.
Journey to Middle Earth
Its 3pm on Friday the 3rd and the time has come. The necessary pilgrimage to Europe looms ahead like some treacherous journey to Mordor. But like Frodo and the Ring… this was a journey bigger than both of us. So after loading the gear in (or mostly on) the hire car, we head to the fabled Margaret River one last time to pick up Ricardo Christie before tackling phase one… 4-hours of cornerless – if not characterless – highway to Perth.
Being Ricardo’s first journey to the far North you could smell, among other, more tangible smells, the excitement in the car. He was also noticeably excited when an old friend from Mahia, now working the mines in Perth, decides to take us out for full night of good clean fun, before dropping us at the airport for the 6am flight to Dubai.
It sounded good on paper… stay up all night, sleep all the way to Europe, no jet lag… But come 3am, wading through the mass of inebriated Australian youth, I’m struggling to locate and hustle the boys out of the smoky sweat pit and into the car. I finally spot Rick loitering on the balcony and together we locate Nick’s mass of blond hair bobbing somewhere between the ‘Pole’ and the ‘Disco Ball’. 20 minutes later we’re at the airport and ready to check in… sort of… the Boys are a mess! Concerned with whether we’d even be allowed on the plane we were on our best behavior. We even managed to flash big smiles of appreciation when the check out lady informed Rick of a $700 Excess baggage charge!
It was now time for Nick and I to flaunt our knowledge as second year campaigners on a budget, and educate our young friend in the mystical packing process of turning 120kg of gear into 60.
So there we were, in the middle of Perth international airport, wearing every item of clothing in our bags, pockets full of anything not sharp or explosive, wearing leashes and electrical chargers as jewelry and swaying like seamen at port. The next 24 hours promised to be a sweaty journey of hung-over purgatory, but we saved hundreds of superior Aussie dollars and for that, we celebrated… with an ill advised $50 bottle of red (13 hours later the regret was unanimous).
After half a nights sleep in Paris (nothing glamorous, B&B, sushi for dinner) we picked a couple of Aussie stragglers up from the airport and tackled the six hour drive to Brettignolles.
Such a journey takes its toll. The big three… body, mind and soul… have each been bruised at various stages of the journey and time is needed for healing. But with the contest starting the following day the boys had to push on. Luckily though for this entourage of southern men, the Vendee Pro is designed for those who like to take advantage of being young, free and surrounded by exotic beauty… In short things never get going before 1pm and everyone’s happy.
This event was always going to be more about the money than the points, being a 4* WQS the points aren’t worth getting excited over short of winning, but being seeded into the round of 64 as we all were, means walking away with at least $800 U.S. in pocket.
The waves were fun, not pumping but a good 3-4 foot swell pulsed for the duration of the event. By some terrible stroke of misfortune Nick and I ended up in the same heat and it wasn’t a good feeling keeping him off a score with minutes to go, finishing second in front of my faithful companion. He more than got his own back but that’s another day’s tale.
I went on to lose in the round of 32, unable to hold Joan Duru off a low score in the dying seconds of the heat. (as some consolation Joan went on to pull the same trick in the final, winning the event)
So once again it was Ricardo Christie flying the kiwi flag. Rick was looking strong from the beginning, confidently posting eights and nines throughout the event. It was the infamous Joan Duru (aka kiwi slayer) who finally put a stop to things in the semi’s, but Rick earned himself the third place trophy and more importantly… a podium finish! That bastard could have hand picked half the girls in Vendee if he wanted!
With the comp wrapped up and the waves turning ugly, we spent the next few days growing very fond of the local disco-tech, before setting out on the long journey south to my personal favorite… Lisbon.
More adventures coming soon.
Rowan Aish
Margaret River
Wednesday 20 May 2009
’m confined once again to the Virgin Blue Bowing 737 cattle mover, this time hurtling across Australia’s limitless Brow expanse towards the prestigious ‘Margaret River Pro’. You’d have thought the 13hour travel time would be incentive for an early night… you’d think. Instead, as the whining engine ruthlessly chiseled skull from my shriveled brain, I could only grimace at the warm ‘Virgin Blue welcome’ and $9.00 food cart.
Arriving in Margarets (4 kangaroo dodging hours from Perth) I was lucky to be put up in the home of an excessively well-traveled bunch of friends from Muriwai. Surrounded by familiar faces and eating an array of exotic cuisine, it looked like the winds of Fortuna were turning my way.
Being so caught up with funds, travel plans, sponsorship, equipment and all the rest left me totally under prepared for the actual surfing in Tasmania, so this time preparation was priority, this means back on the program for me and Nick.
We figured being the first ones on the point each morning would earn us a result, so it was up at 4:30 the next morning to brave the ominous, shark infested paddle up the point. Heart pounding like a dying fish I felt for all the world like an easy meal as I stroked through the shadowy water, hugging the reef as I went. But you can imagine my surprise when I found the first hint of daylight reflecting off the yellow and red ‘Gaff’ helmets of three old locals who, to the best of our knowledge, must sleep out the back. The Gaff helmet crew beat us to it every morning, but the intention was there and confidence was up.
It was a Tuesday when our turn came to do battle. I say battle because 6 foot heaving monster peaks now slammed the famous reef and to make matters worse, a stiff, mid morning cross-shore now chopped the once smooth faces into an abstract tapestry.
I wont dwell on the fact that Nick and I both lost our heats, we’re big enough to look past results. What’s important is that we gave it 100 percent, we got absolutely pounded! and I’m proud to report the fire was there for both of us.
After a good show in the trials Ricardo caught absolutely no waves in the Round of 96, giving him little option other than to lose. In the following round NZs other golden talent Bobby Hanson fell victim to the same epidemic, this rounding up NZs last hope of victory. Not taking anything away from a 48 finish, but when you’re Bobby anything short of a quarter final will leave a lingering bad taste.
As an aspiring young grommet I dreamed of winning comps in tropical blue water, while amazing women would flock like ducks to bread as I made my way over golden sand. With the exception of one or two things, (I came 4th in the round of 128 and the water wasn’t so tropical) Margaret river was living that dream. This fact washed away the bitter taste of an early loss.
Eye of the Storm
Monday 30 March 2009
It 7:30am and I’m crammed into the Virgin Blue Boeing 737. Overlooking the $9 sandwich food cart, ‘pay to view’ sports channel, ‘mature’ engine rattle coupled with dry smiles from equally dated air hostesses, the dream is alive.
The few weeks previous were a chaotic blur of fundraising, sponsorship meetings, photo shoots and bookings. We’d flown in to Melbourne the night before and been put up by a mutual friend. Nick however, now sound asleep in the isle seat, had somehow managed to leave his wallet on her bedroom floor (probably playing cards or something) and now he had no drivers license. Seeing as I had left mine on a plane a few months earlier, the only proof either of us had of a license was the temporary bit of paper you get.
So with weeks of hasty preparation behind, the ominous 6* Cold Water Classic ahead and now the added hire car uncertainties, sitting on that plane felt like the eye of some the storm, 2-hours of guilt free relaxation time minus the elbowroom.
As it turns out the temp license was fine, It even worked 2 hours later on the cop who gave me a ‘citation’ for speeding, and then proceeded to give us directions to all the best surf spots on the north-west coast, proving that people in Tassie are not the inbreed recluses that mainland Aussie would have you believe. Surprisingly the sun was shinning and the chicks weren’t bad either, dispelling Tassies two other most common misconceptions.
A day to sort out accommodation followed by a day of surf to figure out the new quiver and suddenly we’re back in the Coliseum. Bright coloured Brazilians are the easiest to spot, declaring there presence with puffed up chests they roam in dynamic packs of 6 or 7. Aussies are by the far the most numerous at this event, hard eyes and cheeky smiles set them apart from fellow competitors. Booming accents transcending the car park declare the Americans, but it’s vitally important to distinguish the baggier clothed, far more dangerous Hawaiians. Although a strong force The South Africans, like the Kiwi’s, slot comfortably in with the Aussies, while the Europeans are an extremely well dressed group of there own. Finally if you’re very, very quite, you might just stumble across the small Japanese contingent. Little is known about this division as of yet, other than that they stay hidden and never stray alone.
Time to compete. We’d watched Ricardo Christie smash his fellow competitors in the ‘Mahiha like’ bombie, but 6 foot heaving barrels were a thing of yesterday by the time me and Nick got to surf. Instead we had a bumpy, 3foot rip bowl left that changed constantly with the tied.
Nick was the first to go, he didn’t surf bad but it was as though the fire didn’t burn until the last five minutes of the heat. As for myself – it seems like I left the mojo back at Maori Bay. (I tested the missing mojo theory on the Friday night out in Launceston and yes… still gone)
The lesson here is that to compete at this level you have to be focused. I’ve been so caught up with funds, travel plans, sponsorship, equipment and all the rest that I was totally under prepared when it came to actually surfing the 25 minute heat.
It was a disappointing result but the trip has been amazing. This contest is held in the most remote location of any contest I’ve ever seen. The ‘early settlers’ style house we rented is in a little village 80ks (of mostly gravel roads) from the surf. A dormant volcano is our backyard and from the top you can see the miles of pristine bush and coast that is Tasmania. Most evenings we’ve tried our hand at fishing with a couple of $3.00 hand reels off the jetty out front (nothing caught but 2 baby flat head but it sets the scene). It’s the most similar place I’ve ever seen to back home, the heavy feeling of back-country New Zealand lives here two yet with a distinctive Tassie flavor.
We’re leaving tomorrow for our next adventure at Margaret River. The 6* Prime Drug Awareness Pro is the second stop for us and as you can imagine preparation is now the priority as the dream continues.
I’ll keep you posted.
Rowan Aish
Merry Christmas everyone
For me (and I’m sure I’m not the only one) Its been a hectic couple of months, but I’m home now and with the sun out Its good to be home!
Here’s an update I was supposed to send over a month ago, but due to some unforeseen events leading to a surprise visit to Switzerland, I became a little destracted. But here’s the final chapter in myself and Nicks 08 adventure.
HOME STRAIGHT
My last update was written from the confines of our single room apartment in the sub -tropical Island of Gran Canaria. The Bora Bora hotel had recently claimed the little money Nick and I had remaining, and with three of us crammed into the small room the situation was ’sticky’ to say the least.
Achieving results (and winning the cash) now shifted from an idealistic dream to a priority, and we both agreed it was time to ‘get serious’. That’s not to say we weren’t taking things seriously all ready, but we all felt there was a little extra in the tank for a few more push ups and a little more protein.
‘Getting Serious’ with Nick White and Rowan Aish
Up at 6am (no excuses!)
Beach Run, work-out, swim
Filming session at contest wave
Film analysis session
Lots of encouraging remarks and general positivity
As you can see it was a gruelling regime. One that we managed to follow for almost 2 weeks! What happened after 2 weeks? The contest started and I suffered the most embarrassing defeat of my year so far. I won’t go into details here but next time I need a 2.5 in the dying seconds of a heat I won’t be going for the wild man lay back on the end section.
Luckily though, due to a low turn out in the 4* WQS event I was seeded through to the round of 64 and so automatically had enough prize money to get me to the next event.
Nick put on a good show in the first round of 96 but also dipped in the 64.
Needless to say the ‘Getting Serious’ routine wasn’t the magic contest-winning potion that we thought it would be. So since then Nick and I have adopted the increasingly popular ‘Mildly Serious’ routine… You’ll be pleased to know we’ve followed it adamantly with promising results.
The next stop was the beautiful Island of Lanzarote. The best way to fully appreciate the scenery of this island is to be surfing at dusk. The setting sun lights up the many volcanoes and craters scattered through-out the desert landscape, giving a Mars like impression. The small town of Famara, (where the contest is held) by law has only white buildings with either blue or green doors and this peculiarity adds to the alien feel of the place.
The 6* Prime WQS La Santa Pro held on this island takes place at the Raglanish left of San Juan where on any given day the waves will be world class! Unless of course its contest day… 2 foot wind-swell prevailed.
As far as strategy was concerned for this event I was happy as long as I didn’t surf like an idiot. This meant falling off was O.K, not catching any waves was O.K, but 4 half turn wiggles to the beach was NOT O.K.!
I only made it to the main round of 96 where I was knocked out by the Gadouska Brothers and Nathan Hedge, but I didn’t make a fool of myself! For this (and maybe the $600 US) I was happy.
As for Nick he dipped out of this event early and for the first time since I left him at the beach to hitchhike home in Newquay, there was an edge to my puppy dog companion. Nick was sick of not showing his potential in heats and this was something I could understand.
The following night was spent lying on the cold concrete of Madrid’s airport. Needing to be in Portugal the following day we saved hundreds on a direct flight from Lanzarote to Lisbon by flying Easyjet to Madrid, then connecting to Lisbon the following day. As it turns out most of the money we saved was then spent in the following way…
Sandwich – $15
Water – $15
Annoying salesmen selling cool waterproof flash light – $40
Tired and hungry we arrived in Portugal, picked up our ‘Rip Curl Cleo’ hire car from the airport and cruised out to the beach to meet a friend of a friend who generously offered to put us up for the week.
The 6* Estoril Coast Pro was our last contest of the year, so seeing as short of winning the event neither of us were looking to place in the top hundred (let alone top 16), the pressure was off. The goal now was simply to surf hard and enjoy the moment.
The standard 1-2 foot prevails for day 1 of the contest, although this time a howling side wind blows cross chops bigger than the waves themselves. Undeterred I managed find the two scoring rides I needed and progress to the round of 96 but it was Nick who shone in this round, somehow finding an 8point ride in the mess and winning his heat easily with the second highest single wave score of the day.
Pulling in to the car park early on day 2 we found conditions had made a U-Turn. A now consistent 6-foot swell closed out the bay with the same howling side wind of the day before. My biggest concern in heat 2 of the day was making it out the back, and hearing your scores was impossible, so I was pleasantly surprised to discover I had posted a 9.33 single wave score in the second half of the heat securing me a spot in the round of 48.
Unfortunately Nick wasn’t to be so lucky, he demonstrated to everyone that kiwis don’t hold back by throwing some massive turns, but if anything, reminiscent of his youth in Mt Maunganui, he was going too hard.
If you’d told me at the beginning of this year that I’d be entering a heat with Tiago Pires, Phil Macdonald and Mike Losness, I’d have told the pilot to turn the plane around, but there I was on day 3 doing exactly that, and not surprisingly my biggest concern was to not look stupid. The heat started well, half way through the heat I was winning! 2 minutes to go I slipped in to a close second to Losness then in the dying seconds Tiago bounced his way to the beach, just scraping past me by fractions of a point. If you think I was upset you’d be wrong! I couldn’t be happier to have proved to myself that actually I do have what it takes.
Being in Portugal was the closest feeling to home in a long time but the real home is calling. After the contest we cruised down to Lagos to visit old friends in the Surf Experience camp and celebrated the end of our 08 Campaign in the proper fashion. But there’s one more important stop before finally heading home and it’s here that I’m writing, once again in very close proximity to the now very familiar Nick White. This time in the very sticky confines of our single room bungalow, located on the North Shore of Hawaii.
Best Wishes for the New Year
Rowan Aish
The Year
Hi Everyone, Its been 2 months now but it seems like only yesterday that I was sitting under the grey blanket that is the Newquay sky, writing to you about Scotland and dreaming of a better place…
Since then, like the scores of WQS warriors before us, Nick and I have somehow managed to hitch, bus, train and surf our way through 6 events in 4 different countries.
I won’t bore you with the details of our travel plan or the ups and downs of every event but here’s a brief overview seasoned with a few worthy tales.
As far as contests go it’s more of the same. It’s clear to me now that when all is said and done I’ll look back at my time on tour and it won’t be the results I remember, but more the people I met and the times we shared along the way.
That’s not to say we didn’t have our moments! both myself and Nick managed to make a round or two of almost every contest and we’re both now sitting comfortably in the top 200 (my personal goal at the beginning of this year), but for the majority of the events I feel we were struggling with a few confidence issues. This showed in our surfing.
The notable exception for me was the 5* Movistar Classic held in Spain. I feel it was here that things finally came together for me. The bigger waves offered at this event really suited my style and in the 2nd and 3rd rounds I was able to relax and let my surfing do the work. In the round of 48 I was unlucky to be piped at the post by William Cardoso (the eventual winner of this event). Needing a 4.2 single wave score I posted a 3.9 in the dying seconds.
Aside from the much needed prize money, the most positive thing I took away from this result was a boost to my fragile confidence. Since Pantin I have felt free to express my surfing more fully when under pressure.
Competitions aside the last couple of months have been amazing! I couldn’t have done it with a better bunch of lads either! We left Newquay in our usual disorganized fashion (no idea where to stay or how to get there) – but as luck would have it the only other surfer on our flight was now good friend, all round charger and one of the most genuine blokes on tour Milovan Marjenovic. Mick needed some lads to share his hire car so in we jumped. A long and fruitful relationship was born.
The next couple of days saw a couple more recruits join the team, so with ‘Marjenovic the Brave’ as our leader we had five boys, twenty five surf boards and a two door citronC1 (the most economic of the eco car family)… the dream team was assembled.
‘Marjenovic the Brave’ you ask? Well this was a title earned mainly through two outstanding acts of equal valour.
The first of these was during a proper 6-foot swell at La Gravier. Imagine the heaviest day of the year at Maori bay, then imagine those waves breaking onto dry sand 2 meters off the beach! That was the Grav on this day and I was freaking! I’ve gotta take my hat off to Nick at this point because he was charging, (out charged by a Mount boy – how can I sleep!?) but it was Marjenovic who really freaked me out, no wave was too heavy, no drop was too late, he got SMASHED!
The second act was a little more personal… Mum, I’m sorry but I thought this would be the best way to tell you… It involves me, a couple of beers and two written off cars. I’ve said too much all ready but basically I was staring down barrel of a $60000.00NZD payout. Things were looking bad for my WQS ambitions until ‘The Brave’ put himself on the line, copped the blame and literally saved my dept free existence. I ended up walking away 600 Euros out of pocket but feeling like the luckiest kid on tour.
Don’t worry though, apart from that little adventure things have been pretty smooth sailing. We scored pumping waves at every stop (5 foot heaving Mundaka to name one) and took full advantage of our time between events to explore the local culture along the way.
So now, two months later we find ourselves in the Canary Islands. Fortunately we’re staying with friends and eating like kings! But with less than a 100 Euros between us you can understand we’re a little concerned about finance. The idea of donating blood has been thrown around, a wild gigolo plan was drafted, but the obvious answer is to win money in the 4* Ocean and Earth Pro starting tomorrow. Here’s hoping the extra motivation serves us well.
It’s been over 6 months since we left New Zealand and it feels like it The rest of the dream team flew home a couple of weeks back and both Nick and myself will admit to being more than a little jealous.
Sitting far from home with so few dollars, you start asking yourself a few questions. One thing I’m realizing is how important the support has been. Not just the financial support, although obviously every dollar has been crucial! But even more important is the support of the people who believe we can achieve at this level. To open up my inbox and find an old friend back home has offered a few words of encouragement is sometimes all it takes to get back on the program. Anyway you know who you are, and I just wanted to let you know that Nick and I both appreciate it and we’re giving it 100%
Cheers every-one, in a couple of months I’ll be home but hopefully you’ll hear something from me before then.
Rowan Aish
Check out the Live Action of the Ocean and Earth Pro at asp europe
The Rip Curl Boardmasters
Hey Guys
Hope everyone is surviving the New Zealand winter. Our next event is The Rip Curl Boardmasters which kick off tomorrow. Check out the action live at http://www.ripcurlboardmasters.com/index.php
Here’s what went down in Scottland
Oneil Highland Open
With France out of the way and a couple of days before the next event, Nick and I thought we deserved a relaxing night in Paris for some much needed r&r… we weren’t disappointed! From the structural beauty of the Eiffel Tower, to the bums on the subway it truly is a wondrous city on every level. Our short visit obviously wasn’t enough to get a proper feel for the city. But it is important in any relationship to take time out for a little romance, and a table for two under the soft glow of the Arc de Triomphe was just what the doctor ordered.
With one night in Paris (easy boys you know what I mean) out of the way it was off to Scotland for the 6* Prime event in Thurso. Unfortunately getting there wasn’t as easy as we had hoped.
Once again it was our impeccable organization that let us down. A quick check of the WQS schedule reveals that at some point in the last few months, the date of the Oneil Highland Open had been brought forward. Its midday in Paris and suddenly we have to be in Thurso by 7am the Next day! You’ll have to locate Thurso on a map to fully appreciate the desperation of this situation. (Find the north pole then go down and around a bit).
The next day two hungry, dirty, delusional travellers arrived in Thurso with no idea how they got there. It was 10am but luckily the contest was delayed so it was straight to bed! Two days later Nick and Rowan emerged ready for battle.
Despite being a 6*Prime the Oneil Highland Open has by far the most relaxed environment of any WQS contest I have competed in so far. I think due to the extreme location and harsh environment, it’s very difficult for competitors to get into their normal routine. More time is spent huddled around the X-Box in the competitors lounge than watching heats. In fact I’d almost say the X-Box broke more hearts and sparked more debate than the contest itself.
Thurso is a story in itself. It truly feels like another world up there. The Old town has a very ancient and very still feel about it, almost out of place in our modern world. With its cobbled streets, classic old buildings and its idealistic Castle across the river, you wouldn’t look twice if Sherlock Holmes walked past with his English Setter on tow.
Going surfing in the extreme Scottish climate has you focusing less on comfort and more on survival! More often than not the sheer effort of applying Boots, hoods, gloves and 5 ml of rubber would actually have me sweating! Needless to say there wasn’t a lot of free surfing going on.
The funny thing about wearing all that gear is that you don’t realize you were just surfing with Nathan Hedge, Phill Macca or anyone else until you’re back in the car park getting changed. Hiding behind a wall of neoprene I liked to imagine myself as any one of the 44. Nick for some reason preferred to be a Navy seal. Good for the confidence either way.
Day one of the contest and despite Thurso.s reputation for producing some of the best waves on tour… It’s still 2 foot and onshore! The good news is the comp is held at Brims Ness, a very shallow, very sucky little right hand slab. This meant that despite the size there was plenty of push to get your board moving.
My first heat in the Round of 44 started out in traditional Rowan Aish fashion. A flurry of small scores left me in 3rd place with 5 minutes to go, but once again I pulled finger in the dying minutes. A couple of mid range scores in succession pushed me just ahead of Paul Fisher for 2nd. Paul was stoked! I could tell by the way he kicked me as the hooter blew.
Nick was at the other end of the draw and due to bad conditions it was 4 days of waiting before he finally surfed. The kick off was 6am with Nick being 2nd heat in the water. This meant being there at 5:30!! Poor Nick is suiting up in bellow zero temperatures, and poor me is trying to film his heat from the rocks (complete waste of time, all that was gained was frost bite).
The waves for Nicks heat, like the cold, where intense! 5 foot slabbing lefts and heaving close out rights broke on the shallow reef. Nick put up a good fight, but in the end couldn’t find the right wave to give him the moderate score needed to pass through the heat.
Come the next day for the round of 96 and the swell has moved on, once again the surf is 2 foot and onshore (I swear I’m cursed!) and the comp is moved back to the slabbing right. This time my flurry of small scores isn’t backed up, and I lose for 4th.
It’s been said before that you learn more from your losses than you do from your wins, If this is true then Myself and Nick both feel we know more than your average bloke! But with 9 more events to go on our 08 calendar, it’s fair to assume the learning’s just begun. I will keep you posted either way.
Thanks for you support
Rowan Aish
Vendee Pro
After Newcastle it was back to NZ for 2 days to pack up our winter gears and tie up final loose ends.
Thanks to some careful economy Nick and I both managed the whole month in Aus without touching a washing machine once. So after waking on the morning of departure to find my clothes washed, folded and ready for the suitcase, I was squeezing back the tears (Nick slipped one out) as I said my final good buys to mum at the airport.
Flying in-to Bordeaux in the South-West of France, we decided to spend a couple of days surfing in Lacanou (1 hour from the airport) before picking up a hire car to head north for the contest.
Lacanou isn’t a big town by any means and getting there was another story, but it was well worth the effort though as we scored some of the better waves of our trip to date.
Now any surfer will tell you that impeccable organization is the corner stone of a successful campaign, and Nick and I are of course no exception. So it was quite the shock when we wandered down to the bus stop at the end of our stay, to find that buses don’t visit Lacanou on a Sunday! This being only a minor concern at until a trip to a local patisserie confirmed that it was indeed Sunday.
So needing to pick up our hire car from Bordeaux in a couple of hours and with no way of getting there, it was quite the predicament. Racking our brains for answers (two great minds working as one), we stumbled into the local surf shop. As luck would have it a sympathetic compadre loads our gear on the roof of his car and we’re off to Bordeaux!
Now Nick and I were all ready feeling on the right side of Karma. But to top things off, half way down the road our new friend hangs up his mobile and declares that Nick and I both have free accommodation right by the contest site, and if that’s not enough, when we come back to Lacanou for the Rip Curl Pro in August its free accommodation there too!
It all becomes clear when the friendly Frenchman gets out his camera phone and shows us pictures of him ‘tandem’ surfing at 8 foot pipe!! Turns out we’re riding in the beaten up, 1987 citron of the World Tandem surfing champ and the Vendee Pro’s contest director is an old tandem surfing buddy of his.
We’ve got the hire car and it’s off to Vendee. Unfortunately Nick’s navigation skills are as bad as my left hand driving so we arrive a little later than expected. But true to the Frenchman’s word we are welcomed in by the Contest director like old friends and placed in the homes of an accommodating local family. They were big on wine and cheese but not so big on English, so exaggerated arms and faces were necessary for any communication. We didn’t always get it right but what a lau
Come day one of the contest and it looks like a repeat of the Aussie leg as 1 foot waves lap the shores of La Souze. Luckily our new friend Piero (contest director), is able to hold things off for a couple of days in anticipation of a good swell. That’s two days for myself and Nick to acquaint ourselves properly with the town of Bretignolles with it’s many roundabouts and Patisseries.
Back to the contest and for once the swell report was right! Sucky 3 foot rights and long walley lefts were now peeling off the rocky reef break.
True to Form my first heat in the round of 96 started badly. I somehow managed to catch every wave that came through without a lip or a wall, leaving me with a stack of throwaways. Before I knew it only 5 minutes remained and I’m in 3rd, needing a good score for second. It was here, at rock bottom, that I found a moment of clarity. “Chill out Rowan, you’re embarrassing me!” said my inner self. And so I waited, then with 3 minutes to go I found the scores and won the heat.
Meanwhile Nick shows up for his Round of 96 heat suited up and ready for battle but it’s a no show! Two guys didn’t turn up! Dream come true, a walk through to the 64 and $800US in pocket.
Round two and confidence is high. The swells now 4-6 foot with a stiff onshore breeze blowing chop through the face. General murmurs of “hard work” and “too many duck dives” ripple through the competitor’s area. But for me it’s just Maori Bay on a Tuesday.
I watched Nick narrowly miss out in his morning heat. He surfed well but to give you an idea of the level, it was top 44 surfer Micky Picon who narrowly beat him for second.
Unfortunately I was to follow down the same road. Despite my high confidence it was once again wave selection that brought me down. The bigger surf had me too fired-up, kamikaze end turns and close out shacks where all I could muster. Needless to say I lost for third.
So naturally we were disappointed with the results, but for myself and Nick, France was well worth the experience. It wasn’t my first trip to France but it was my first time experiencing some true French culture and hospitality. Of course I could go on about the cheese, wine and women but this story’s long enough.
Job done, next stop Scotland.
The size of Australia
Thursday 17 April
Hi everyone, sorry this updates a bit late. Hope all is well and I’ll see you down the line.
‘It’s easy to underestimate the size of Australia. A quick glance at the Oxford World Atlas will tell you Sydney to Torquey is simple enough (down a bit and around the corner). So when an opportunity arose for Nick and I to drive down to Bells over the long weekend, we jumped at the opportunity.
But 13 hours, 4 coffee stops and 2 kangaroo sightings later we turned up at Bells (a day later than planned) with a newfound respect for New Zealands third (and biggest) Island.
For the next seven days you couldn’t wipe the smiles off our faces as we camped up and down the great ocean road searching for waves. The best part was that we finally got to surf some size! Even though I lost two boards to the Ocean, my 6′10 semente snapped at 8 foot Johana, then watching my week old ‘S.T.D Lost’ bounce over the rocks at Cathedrals, it was well worth the trouble and well worth the drive.
Back to the Central Coast for the Mark Richards Pro at Newcastle and back to 2foot slop. Any seasoned competitor will tell you competitions are cursed! It’s the same story every time: “Last week was pumping”, or “Next week will be pumping”.
Like the swell, for me things didn’t go so well, Your surfing ability only takes you halfway to winning a heat, the other half is catching the best waves and during my first heat in the round of 160 I felt as though me and the Ocean were running different time zones. I was confident my surfing could take me through the heat but unfortunately I never got the opportunity.
From then on in I took on the role of chief support and camera man for my WQS companion Nick White, who after dominating his round of 128 heat was unlucky not pass through the round of 96.
It was a disappointing loss for me but I didn’t dwell on it. Newcastle has many distractions for a young man. You can almost set your watch to the girls parading up and down the beach in groups of 3 or four wave after wave. Part of the Entry pack for the competition was a V.I.P card to the local club, allowing you to enjoy free entry and discount scotch (I have no idea why) and after a couple on the rocks I admit to feeling a little like a movie star.
So despite the disappointing result Newcastle was still a confidence boosting exerience, Nick White mixed it up with some of the best and I somehow managed to have a great time too.
Next stop is the Vendee Pro Held at Bretignolles, France. It kicks off on the 15 of April and you can see the action live at www.aspworldtour.com by following the link.’
Thanks for the support
Rowan Aish
Hey Guys
This year I’m travelling with a good friend and great surfer Nick White. This is Nicks first year on Tour and as I’ve only done a few WQS events myself, I think we both felt a little like Virgins in a Brothel when we turned up at Soldiers Beach for the Arrive Alive Pro. We did our best to look comfortable in the competitors area, but the whole scene becomes a little intimidating when you start to recognize every other face as one from the magazines. So we decided a free surf at the neighbouring bay might be better for the confidence.
My first round heat was against Owen Wright and James Wood, luckily the 4th guy didn’t show up, and who’s blaming him!
10 minutes down and things weren’t looking good. The two experienced Ausy competitors are paddling circles round me, and I’m looking at a 7.5 for second. Hard work does pay off though and with 5 minutes to go I snuck into the wave of the heat, managing to rack up an 8.3. This combined with my earlier score of a 4.9 was enough to put me ahead of Owen Wright. It was here the Maori Bay Training paid off as I paddled Owen Wright up and down the beach to ensure he didn’t get another score.
Later in the day Nick White smashed his first heat, landing a solid air reverse to secure his lead.
Day two and the boys are full of confidence as we head up to Soldiers Beach from the lazy Central coast town of Copacabana where we are staying. No longer the shy Virgins of the day before, we sit confidently in the competitors area with a feeling of belonging.
For me the second round heat was a learning experience as I was lucky enough to surf against former top 44 WCT surfer Shaun Candsell. Although I didn’t progress through the heat myself, it was good to watch the young Hawaiin Gavin Gellette take first place over Shaun, proving once again that everyone is beatable. Gavin then when on to place 4th in the whole event, so I was hardly beating myself up for not making the heat.
Nick White who was surfing well, was unfortunate not to get the waves he needed, and so was also knocked out in the round of 96.
So although we didn’t walk away from our first WQS of the year with a fat wad of prize money, we did walk away with valuable experince and allot more confidence that we look forward to taking into the next event.
The Mark Richards Pro in Newcastle starts this Saterday the 29th. Check out www.aspworldtour.com to see the action live.
Take Care
Rowan Aish
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