Taylor's Travels: South African Adreneline Fix - Dungeons (Part One of Two)

I don’t know what I expected, I mean, they don’t name a surf spot “Dungeons” for its dry-haired, carefree sessions. I knew it wasn’t going to easy. But still, the place was straight raw.

You feel so small out there. Cape Town’s mountains dwarf everything around them and block the rising sun’s light (and warmth) from reaching the water. And the water is no bathtub. It has an eerie blackness to it and the temperature lingers in the low 50’s, quite unsuitable for humans, but perfect for the sea life we saw out there: bull kelp as thick as my arm, jellyfish, leaping seals (I wonder what’s chasing them?), and Sunfish (whose fins stick out of the water and make them look like…uh…the “S” word). There were also penguins, which for me lightened the mood a bit cause as far as I’m concerned, nothing can go wrong with cute little penguins cruising the lineup.

The penguin security blanket was of course to take my mind off of the larger animal I never saw but always thought of. Whitie, Johnny, the Man in the Grey Suit—I’m talking sharks. Never surfed a wave that felt so sharky. Every wave that broke whistled the Jaws tune. Every shadow was the landlord of the sea coming to collect.

Scared yet? I was. And I haven’t even gotten to the waves. Big, powerful, and unpredictable. It was like surfing a beach break with 20-30 foot faced waves detonating all around. That the wave breaks with little rhyme or reason distinguishes Dungeons from other big waves like Mavericks or Todos Santos, which break consistently in the same spot. The first time I got caught inside I felt silly (and short of breath), like I was kooking it by not reading the wave correctly. By the fifth or sixth time I realized it wasn’t just me; Dungeons has a personality all its own, and is quite obviously schizophrenic.

I was feeling fairly brave at this point, surfing at such a gnarly place. Wanna hear something funny though? With all of the uninviting stuff I just mentioned, it was unanimously agreed by the locals that, with the sun shining and little wind, the day was as inviting as Dungeons gets. Just a sec, while my ego deflates. Psshshhhhhh…

There we go.

Even with the realization that I wasn’t as cool as I thought I was, the day was still a blast. The locals helped make it so. Usually with a tight knit group of surfers, outsiders get a healthy dose of stink eye and drop-ins. Not the case at Dungeons. I guess they know the waves will keep people away, so who needs localism? Everyone paddled up to me, the sole unfamiliar face in the lineup, and introduced themselves. They welcomed me and offered advice that I was eager to accept. And like most big wave crews, there were plenty of characters among them.

When I met Frank Solomon in the dark parking lot that morning, he was noticeably hobbling around. I didn’t think much of it, I had other things to worry about. I hitched a ride out on his “rubber ducky” boat and paddled out with him. He then explained that he’d just had six stitches in his foot and it was killing him. He wasn’t about to miss opening day though, and proceeded to throw himself over the ledge of any bomb that came his way.

Then there was Andrew Marr. A bushy-faced big wave charger whose positive energy was so contagious it was almost overwhelming. We’re talking seven year old on December 25 happy. With every giant wave he (or anyone else, for that matter) caught you’d hear boisterous hooting and giggles coming from Andrew. Regarding riding big waves he said, “It just makes you feel good in your heart.” Now, I like to think of myself as a happy guy, but next to Andrew you may as well put me on suicide watch. He’s that stoked.

And as always, where you find big waves, you find Greg Long. The southern California nice guy is one of, and many would rightfully argue the, best big wave surfer in the world right now. He arrived a couple of days before the swell to spend his eighth consecutive winter in Cape Town. I flew in the day after him. He picked me up from the airport, lined up lodging, equipment, and a ride out to Dungeons, going out of his way and acting like he had nothing better to do than hold my hand through the whole process. Once in the water though, he let go of my hand. Then he paddled 30 yards deeper than me and everyone else and caught only the biggest waves that came through. It’s what he does.

We surfed for five hours. I caught seven waves, got spanked on two of them, and was caught inside more than I’d like to remember. But there were no injuries, no boards broken, and no sharks spotted—a successful day of surfing big waves. Everyone was buzzing.

That afternoon, Greg and I sat outside a café in Hout Bay, we ate a big plate of ribs and sipped two well deserved beers. Absorbing the hot fall sun on our faces, we recalled the day’s waves. My heart never felt so good.


For photos from the day, copy and paste the links below.

http://www.surfline.com/surf-news/dungeons-awakens_27201/1/

http://www.zigzag.co.za/site/awdep.asp&depnum=27636_47_11_A151