Old Coots Surf New Caledonia
By John McIntyre.
When I was a kid growing up in the sixties and seventies I used to watch a TV show called Adventures in Paradise. I always wanted to go there. I still recall the pang of excitement at places far removed from backyard footy and grazed knees - the exotic backdrop, the sense of escape, feeling of remoteness, and the warmth of the sun. Growing up in Victoria, I could only imagine the warmth of the water.
Capture that memory and fast forward 35 or so years, many waves and family holidays to the present. If someone said to you I know a place where you can surf brilliant 1-2 m reef breaks in idyllic settings, warm water, only a 2 ½ hours from Australia and, get this, by yourself (or a group of mates), you’d be forgiven for saying go forth and multiply tosser/you’ve got your hand on it.
We found it in New Caledonia with World Surfaris.
Myself and my croaky old coot mates had a week in August on a catamaran surfing and sailing up and down the west coast of New Caledonia — and it was magic.
This brilliant surfing holiday challenged our bodies and skill, provided some of the best uncrowded waves we have ever surfed, charmed us with a strange Euro South Pacific culture and accosted our senses with amazing sights, experiences and some of the best food prepared in a galley little bigger than a dunny.
As well as the sensational surf, there was great fishing and snorkeling, a bit of whale interaction and plenty of bullshit fuelled by Number Ones (the beverage of choice in New Caledonia).
To give you a snapshot, our days started with dropping anchor next to reef breaks such as Fausse Passe, Tenia and Ouno, paddling out to surf clean waves of 4 to 5 feet with the occasional 6 footer, coming back starving to enjoy a cooked breakfast and gearing up for our second session of more critical take offs, fast wally sections, a few wipeouts and no one else out but us. Just bullshit.
Then we would head off towards one of the magnificent and idyllic island lagoons of New Caledonia to anchor and unwind for the day and enjoy a brilliant dinner of roast lamb, fish straight from the sea or some other culinary delight, of course washed down by a French red.
Our surfing guide, brilliant cook and modern day tarzan was a local called Christophe who has been surfing these reefs for years. As well as being some sort of superman, he was a great bloke and well attuned to the Australian sense of humour – he knew how to take the piss.
Our captain, a most able seaman named Dom, hardly spoke a word of English, but as is often the case seemed to understand everything that was said. He plotted his course on the computer, set the cat on auto pilot, made a great heart-starting coffee in the morning and then wacked on a bit of Donald Fagan to get the day started, much to the howls of laughter or groans despair – depending on which way you dressed.
As you can imagine, it didn’t take long for team Old Coot to really relax and slip into a temporary lifestyle like no other previously experienced. The kind of stuff you’ll take with you when you finally put your board in the rack.
For a bunch of Old Coots we survived with only a few minor scrapes, cuts and the occasional ache. Nothing a bit of tea tree oil, a Nurofen sandwich and couple of Number Ones couldn’t fix.
Great uncrowded waves, plenty of time to relax, sleep – sleep, a rare commodity in the rarified air of family life, wallowing in the old briny, the odd Reef Shark encounter, a bit of sea snake chasing and the obligatory bombs off the boats. Makes you wonder why we’re racing rats back in Aus. Anyhow, it was sensational whilst it lasted and it is great to bring the memories home if not a good dose of perspective. But shhhh. Don’t tell anybody about it.