Hainan Surf Blog

Feeling eager to repeat my previous day's performance at Matoes, I rounded up Brendan (who found the spot in the first place), and we drove out to the daunting spot. As we pulled around the corner of the last building in town, we could see that the ocean was heavy, with swell reaching all the back to the beach at the base of the headland.

As we carried our gear down the path to the break, we could see the ocean frothing with the inertia of multiple swells coming in from the northeast and south, with a light on-shore breeze to top it off. Walking out to the first lookout point, our faces lit up with the site of perfect 10-12 foot waves breaking mechanically off the outside point, and peeling for hundreds of yards into the open bay.

Brendan had not tried the jump-off point, and we clambered out over the rocks and made preparations for launching ourselves in right at the peak. After several minutes of tentatively watching and waiting for the right moment, we determined that even the smallest waves were crashing too violently to warrant the risk of making out and safely around the first set of rocks that mark the takeoff zone.

So we opted for the long paddle over the reef and around the break to the outside swell. After a 20 minute paddle that all but exhausted me, we took a few minutes to catch our breath before completing the final 50 yards to the takeoff zone, and once there, sat carefully off to the left of the shoulder to feel out the sets and determine a good takeoff point.

After about 10 minutes of slowly moving closer and closer to the peak, we were finally scratching onto the shoulder of a few waves but not deep enough to commit to the final takeoff. Anxious to get a wave, I gradually moved in a bit closer with each set, hoping to get just close enough to ease my way onto the soft section of a shoulder.

I wish I could say that my efforts paid off, but what happened next is the kind of stuff you pray for not to happen: I paddled and failed to make a smaller wave right in front of a triple-wave rogue set of 15 foot waves that broke on an outer shelf and caught me trapped on the inside. Brendan was a good 20 yards down the shoulder from me, and he barely made it through the set. I, on the otherhand, had my options as whether to cling to my board or ditch and dive.

I dove, but rather late, and miraculously punched through the other side with little difficulty. I wasn't so lucky on the next wave, and though I thought I dove deeper, was pulled back over the falls and cycled like a G.I. Joe doll that's been thrown in the washing machine. I managed to retrieve my board before the third wave came along, and was certain I was doomed if I didn't hold onto it for dear life. I managed to cling to it for about half the 'ride', but was pulled way underwater and had to let go it seemed to keep from being bent in half the wrong way. I didn't know which way was up, other than to grab my leash and climb up to my board.

I finally pointed my board to shore and held on as tight as I could as another wall of whitewash slammed into my back- sending me hurdling towards the rocky shore. I hung on for dear life and steered myself into calm waters, where I rested head-down on my board for a good 5 minutes before humbly paddling myself ashore.

Brendan was not far behind me, and we considered ourselves lucky to have gotten out safely, though a bit bummed on getting skunked.
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When we got back to Dadonghai, Brendan got a call from Dahai saying there were small waves at the beach. We grabbed our boards and ran down the street to play in the waning hours of daylight on 3 foot shorebreak. Still, it was satisfying to catch something that day, and as Brendan put it, "Hey Matt, you tell everyone it was triple-overhead today and you caught 10 waves."

It's nice to know there's a formidable challenge out there, but didn't need to get rocked so hard to have it demonstrated.