A kitesurf trip full of "What If?"'s... (or how to spend a not so graceful holiday in Gnaraloo)

It took me nearly three months to find words to describe our kitesurfing trip during last October's school holidays. The words I found start with "What if..."

What if we had stayed two weeks instead of one week at the perfect spot at Ningaloo Station? We would have run out of water, fresh food, cold beers and even goon. But we would have stood the test with our dear friends Andrew and Therese, as well as Thom and John who still had plenty of supplies, wonderful smiles, and knew how to fish yummie parrot fish and even enjoy a couple of McCrystals snuffs... And we would still have had plenty of cool seawater to treat more burns such as those suffered by Laetitia on the second evening while playing under the table in the sand and receiving a mug full of boiled water on her back (this time we were able to react more effectively compared to the incident with Oceane two years back in the Simpson desert where we hardly had any water to cool the burns). Well, perhaps it was better to move on so there was no chance it could get any uglier... see this link for some of Tom's favourite photos of the awesome moments spent together at the spot.

What if we hadn't felt confident enough after a week of warming up our OZ winter bodies with flat water kiting in order to venture out to the famous waves at Gnaraloo's Toombstone spot? We might have missed a dreaded incident of getting stuck with a flat tyre half way between Ningaloo Station and Coral Bay on a lonesome, dusty track. Instead of trying to swap wheels in the dark, we opened up our rooftop tent, took a nap and did the repair after sunrise. Normally I would take 2 spare tyres onto a 4WD trip. But having done this specific trip a number of times without any issues, I was too lazy to pack the full set up. We did make it all the way back home without another puncture, but you can imagine my nervousness while driving the remaining 40km to Coral Bay on a track that may not see a single soul for several days.

What if there hadn't been extreme low tide on the first day at Gnaraloo? I would have easily sailed out from the kite launching spot to the break and enjoyed a whole week of fantastic wind and epic wave conditions just as I had hoped for since the last trip to Gnaraloo in April. Well no, I hit the reef on my first attempt to cross. It was kind of the fleshy version of the puncture suffered by one of my car's tyres the evening before... Anyway, I fell with my right hip so hard onto the coral I knew I would need to have it fixed up that same day and there would be no more kiting for a while. But after a couple of freaky moments, I managed to recuperate my board, and as I stood onto it, noticed I still managed to control my ride sufficiently to venture out into the break through a long haul detour downwind of the bombie and then enjoy a few waves before the game was definitely over. After a couple of hours my right leg was too numb to safely control the surfboard and it was time to stop. That day, kiting was no longer an option for Anh-Dao as she was committed to walk me and the kids back to the camp and do whatever was required to get the deep wound in my back stitched up. What if there hadn't been a doctor at the camp? I was so lucky to find a kind doctor at the 3 mile camp that we didn't have to pack everything up and drive the 3 hours back to Carnarvon to get treatment. The adrenalin injection was so effective I didn't need any antibiotics to support the healing process, but it was definitely wiser to stay out of the saltwater for the days to come. On the other hand, the swell on the following day was so high (I saw a windsurfer cross a huge, double-mast high wave!) that I would have probably produced sufficient adrenalin to scare any kind of beast off my wounds. Don't ask me what if I hadn't had the accident the day before... I'd be sure to say I would have pulled my tail in just like many of the other riders who didn't dare join the hand full of excellent riders into those massive conditions.

What if a couple of days later Anh-Dao had kept cold blood while riding down the wave towards a windsurfer with no option to escape the impact zone? She wouldn't have dropped the kite into the thundering wave, the kite lines wouldn't have got tangled in a way that the kite couldn't be relaunched, and she wouldn't have drifted outside the reef for miles. Luckily she somehow got around the most risky breaks and probably had no other choice than to feel courageous while the kids and I watched it all from a safe distance but feeling very anxious about her situation. We tried to stay at level with her drifting in wind and currents, but it was hard to keep up with her running back all the way to the level of the little lagoon where first a windsurfer then another kitesurfer kindly dragged her back into safer water. Once back on land, she immediately ran back to the spot in search of the abandoned surfboard, and found it in the back of a pick-up truck of some of the surfers visiting from the nearby camp at Red Bluff... He certainly didn't like to give the board back, but he managed to keep the rear fin as a souvenir... Both Anh-Dao's and my adventures with the gnarly conditions marked a sober end to this kite holiday, but we still felt very lucky that nothing worse had happened to us.

What if we had left Gnaraloo a quarter hour earlier? We would have missed out a hilarious adventure of picking up all sorts of camping and watersports objects and debris every two kilometers on the bumpy road between the 3 mile camp and the blowholes. Best thing of all, it ended up to be the husband of the very doctor who fixed me up, who noticed on arrival in Carnarvon that he had lost half his belongings as the backdoor of his trailer had come loose. He immediately returned to backtrack the 120kms but instead met us on the way carrying all his stuff as well as we could inside and on the top of our car (another hilarious sight...). What a funny way of returning a favour, we thought to ourselves. Sadly, we had missed a standup paddle board which must have flown tens of meters beside the track and behind a bush. The poor guy still had to drive all the way back to 3 mile camp...

What if we hadn't had a four wheel drive? We would have spent a night in Carnarvon waiting like so many others until the highway to Perth was opened again after a terrible truck crash. Instead, we drove right to the long queue of vehicles waiting for almost 24 hours, only to find a little track in the bush through which we could circumnagivate the blocked road. The remaining 700kms to Perth were so comfortable due to totally deserted roads, we decided to drive through the night and all the way home at once, only crossing a hand full of cars on the whole way (because most people didn't even dare to hit the road due to the accident).

What if six years ago in Sydney we hadn't met Rob the good soul of kitesurfing on the EastCoast? We wouldn't have known that he had now moved to Geraldton, and we would have missed out on all the cheerful moments in his and Katarina's company.

And what if the day after our return from this rather lucky adventure holiday trip, Anh-Dao's mother Madou hadn't come to join us in Perth and spend the following five weeks living in with us? We would have not only missed a wonderful lunch in one of Margaret River's best vineyard restaurants, but we would have particularly missed all her support and cheering as we continued to confront other rough moments related to work and housing situation. To be continued...

For more pictures of the Ningaloo holidays click this link to access the flickr set 20131014 Ningaloo Reef

For pictures of the Margaret River trip with Madou click here.